


A Beautiful Beginning

by PotionChemist, smithandbarrowman



Series: Something Beautiful [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Potions, Romance, Ron Weasley Bashing, Smut, dragon sanctuary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:20:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29226135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotionChemist/pseuds/PotionChemist, https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithandbarrowman/pseuds/smithandbarrowman
Summary: While Hermione and Draco were living their something beautiful, Pansy and Charlie were searching for the same.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson/Charlie Weasley
Series: Something Beautiful [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1104141
Comments: 32
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Back in August 2020, PotionChemist and I were struggling to put words on paper — individually and together — so we began tossing around ideas that might help us both find our own grooves again. One idea that came up was a “smutty Charlie/Pansy one-shot, just for something different,” and it dawned on me that I had put this pair together in Something Beautiful in Return. 
> 
> And I decided it was time to revisit the SBiR world again. 
> 
> PotionChemist did voice some concerns about writing in my already established world, but after working with her on other projects, I knew I could trust her completely with my baby. And it’s been a pleasure to collaborate with her once more. 
> 
> This little fic has taken a while; it’s been our background project, one we’ve kept secret and written when our other works have stalled. But it’s finally finished. 
> 
> This is how Charlie and Pansy began. We hope you enjoy their story xx

* * *

***** CHARLIE *****

* * *

"Charlie! I'm so glad you could stop by!"

Hermione Granger's voice, happier than I'd heard it in years, rang out in the lobby of MZP Potions. As soon as the lift doors had opened, she'd quickly crossed the room and hugged me warmly. I'd been standing near the glass wall and staring out into the London streets since there was no furniture in the lobby.

"How could I refuse?" I responded. "Even if we're not _technically_ family now, we were before."

She gave me a sad smile and I felt like I'd put my foot in my mouth.

"Well, things have a funny way of working out. Honestly, Ronald is the only Weasley I won't speak to."

Ronald. Not Ron, none of the familiarity she'd once showed him. I just nodded, unsure of how to navigate the conversation with my ex- _almost_ -sister-in-law.

"Oh, don't feel awkward, Charlie," she said, reading me correctly. "Really, it's fine. And besides, I invited you here for a reason. I was hoping we could talk business before we go to lunch."

My eyebrows raised. She was more talkative and confident than she'd been the last time I'd seen her. I couldn't imagine what sort of business proposition she'd have for me, unless she wanted me to send fertiliser from the Sanctuary for her greenhouse.

But was she even working in a greenhouse anymore?

"Okay. That's fine with me," I replied. "Does your office have chairs?"

She laughed and linked her arm through mine. "I do, though there is also a conference room if you'd prefer to have a larger selection."

"I've never been inside a building with no seating in the atrium," I observed, sticking to the safe topic.

"Draco hates clutter, and he doesn't really make people wait down here, so long as they're welcome."

When she said 'Draco', her eyes sparkled and the tiniest hint of a blush had appeared on her cheeks.

"I get the feeling Draco might be more than your boss," I teased. "Those are some pretty sparkly stars in your eyes."

After we stepped into the lift, she released my arm and faced me. "We can talk about it, but not here. Everyone here knows, but they are sworn to secrecy, and I try to keep my work and personal life a little bit separate."

"Is it serious?"

She smiled and nodded. "It is. He's not the same person he was in school, and the work he's doing here is incredible."

"Then I'm excited for you," I answered. "Seriously. You deserve to be happy, Hermione, and you certainly look a lot happier now than you did last time I saw you."

"I am happier. I'm glad it comes through."

The lift dinged and the doors slid open, revealing a hallway on the top floor with several doors either side. At the far end, I saw a woman stationed at a desk. I assumed she was Draco Malfoy's assistant.

Hermione linked her arm through mine again, pulling my attention back to her and leading me to one of the other doors. "Well, what about you? Have you been seeing anyone?"

"You know me. Nothing serious. I'm more focused on chasing dragons than women," I replied, chuckling.

After we entered her office, she gestured to one of the chairs in front of her desk. We both sat and then she said, "That's the perfect segue to what I wanted to discuss with you, actually."

"Oh? You need me to chase some women for you?"

She laughed. "More like I need you to chase some dragons."

"That's a simple enough request since I'll be doing it anyway. What do you need from them?"

Shifting the papers on her desk around, she found the one she was looking for. "Well, Pansy — Pansy Parkinson, our head potioneer — is developing several different things right now, and she needs a regular supplier of dragon scales. I don't want to use someone who might mistreat the dragons."

This was one of the things I loved about Hermione. Her heart was so big, so open. She cared about people and magical creatures in a way that so few did. It made it that much worse when my youngest brother stomped all over it.

"Well, that's actually really easy," I told her. "We have the dragons on a rotating schedule for health exams. Anytime we touch them, they shed scales. I have no problem asking the other keepers and caretakers to collect them for you lot."

"Of course we'd be willing to compensate the Sanctuary for the scales," she explained, moving into full business mode. "I know that they come off anyway, but we'd pay just as well as any apothecary, I can assure you. And we could work with the Ministry to negotiate import and export costs."

"Hermione, slow down. All of that would need to go through the Sanctuary if you want to do it that way. I'm not in charge there and, as far as I know, we don't do it for apothecaries or anyone else at this point in time."

Her eyes widened. "They don't? Why wouldn't they?"

Shrugging, I said, "I think we just sell the dung for fertiliser. I figured that was what you wanted to talk to me about since you're a herbologist."

"That makes sense, I suppose. I'm sure there are other dragon related things Pansy would be interested in, as well. I could take you on a tour and ask her. Maybe we can work something out to benefit both MZP and the Sanctuary," Hermione mused aloud. "Maybe we could stock your infirmary with potions or fund a few projects. There are lots of possibilities."

"I'm sure there are plenty of things we could work out, but I could also just bring some scales here on my own."

"No. We do everything above board here. Full public transparency. I don't want anyone thinking we have some sort of back alley connection. If you could put me in contact with someone at the Sanctuary, I'll take care of the details."

I wanted to laugh at her eagerness, but it was nice to see her passionate about a project again. I decided to ask questions to keep her talking about it.

"What is the potioneer—"

"Pansy," she supplied.

"What is Pansy working on, then?"

"Honestly, I haven't been here long, so I haven't gotten a lot of specifics out of her," Hermione said. "We're friends, but you know how I am. If I listen to her theories and what she's working on, I'll try to help her improve it somehow and overstep, so I'm trying to focus on the herbology side of things for now."

"Just for now?"

"I can't say I'll _never_ venture into her lab and get pulled into something that interests me." Picking up a quill, she started making a list. "I could take you down to meet Pansy if you want. I know that you probably aren't familiar with her since she's my age. Draco and Blaise, too. That way you can feel confident in recommending this business partnership to whoever will handle it on the Sanctuary's side."

Since I wanted to see more of their operation, I nodded in agreement. "I'd like that. And I'd love to see your side of things, too. Do you have anything interesting growing here?"

"Oh, absolutely," she replied. "Come on. I'll walk you down the hall. We can see if Draco and Blaise are free. I know that Pansy will be down in the lab. She spends little to no time up here."

I got to my feet and waited for her to lead the way. Once again, Hermione linked our arms and I found myself hoping that Draco Malfoy wasn't a jealous man; I didn't want to cause problems for her.

Much to my surprise, when we arrived at Draco's office, he greeted me in the way I was sure he'd greet a potential client — professionally, yet warm and inviting. And when he looked at Hermione, I could see that he was all the way in love with her already. Since she was happy to see me, he was happy that I was here.

I was honestly jealous of him. Not because I wanted Hermione, but because I wanted to find a woman I felt something that deeply for, a woman I had that kind of connection with.

"So, Mr Weasley—"

"Please call me Charlie. There are far too many Mr Weasleys in this part of the world," I replied, interrupting Draco.

"Charlie," he amended. "I'm sure Hermione has already explained our business proposition to you so I won't go on about it, but please feel free to reach out to me with any questions you may have. Or if you need any reassurances."

"That's not necessary, Mr Malfoy."

"If I'm calling you Charlie, I think it's only right that you call me Draco." Casually, he added, "Plus, any friend of Hermione's will likely be a friend of mine, as well."

"Exactly. That's why I don't need reassurances from you. If Hermione trusts you, I really don't have any issues doing the same."

Draco shifted, making himself more comfortable in his office chair. Hermione was on his side of the desk, one hip leaning against it. "That seems to be a recurring theme with my suppliers." Reaching out, he grasped her hand and smiled. "The ones that are worth a damn, anyway. They all love Granger."

"You're exaggerating," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "The three of you run a great company."

"I never said we didn't. High-quality ingredients have just been a bit easier to come by since you joined the team."

"Well, I just know how to get what I want," she teased. "Isn't that supposed to be something you're good at?"

He looked at her, his eyes filled with unspoken words that I could only guess at. I had a feeling he'd be getting exactly what he wanted from _her_ as soon as I was gone.

I laughed at their exchange, the gentle back and forth showing that they knew each other well already. When their heads turned towards me in unison, I knew they were truly in sync.

"Right," Hermione said, snapping out of the trance she seemed to go into when focused on Draco. "Is Blaise about?"

Draco shook his head as he checked his watch. "No, he's out meeting with a client right now, but I imagine he'll be back after lunch."

She squeezed his hand and then released it. "I'm going to introduce Charlie to Pansy and then take him down to the greenhouses if that's okay with you."

"You know it is. Show him around and then go to lunch. I'll keep Blaise here if he tries to run off after we talk about his meeting."

Hermione leaned down and kissed his cheek. "Okay. We'll see you later." Looking at me, she said, "Let's go, Charlie. There's quite a bit to see and I'm already hungry."

When I rose to my feet, Draco did too, moving around his desk and extending his hand. I shook it and said, "It was nice to meet you."

"Likewise. Enjoy the tour." As we left his office, Hermione gave him a little wave and he added, "Have fun."

When we stepped out on the second floor, it was more of the same — incredibly clean with sparse furnishings, but there was more glass than I'd ever seen in my life. I was able to look straight into the main potions lab, and thank fuck for that. While there were several people bustling around, looking after simmering cauldrons, only one caught my eye.

There was a woman with dark hair tied back in a knot moving from cauldron to cauldron, answering questions or giving direction like she was a professor. Even in her lab robes, she was striking, though I'd never seen a potions mistress walking around in high-heeled shoes.

Her shoes made me wonder what she was wearing underneath the shapeless robes. Shoes like that didn't really fit with a matronly wardrobe.

"That's Pansy," Hermione said, pulling me out of my thoughts. "She's got a few promising apprentices in there, so she's teaching."

My mouth was dry and I couldn't seem to make myself speak. Luckily, Hermione seemed oblivious and continued telling me about the woman who had stolen my voice.

"—manages the two smaller potion labs, as well. One is just hers and that's where she does most of her research and development since she doesn't want anyone touching her things. She's a little bit of a control freak."

"Is she?" I said, my eyes still watching her move around the room.

I supposed I could see it — she marched around like a general commanding her troops, her back straight and her eyes constantly surveying everything that was going on around her. Even through the glass wall, her presence could be felt.

"She is. She's got more self-confidence than anyone I've ever met. Oh, and take what she says with a grain of salt. She's very snarky and can seem condescending at first. I imagine she'll be a little… rude to you," Hermione explained. "Once you're used to her, you'll be able to tell when she's being serious and when she's joking."

Shrugging, I replied, "I work with dragons. I don't think there's anything that can really scare me off. Does she breathe real fire?"

Hermione laughed and slapped my arm. "Don't be an arse, Charlie! Of course she doesn't breathe fire."

"Then I'm sure we'll get along wonderfully. I can tame fire-breathing beasts. One little woman doesn't frighten me. Plus, I'm charming as fuck."

She raised an eyebrow at me. "A man who was actually charming as fuck wouldn't say that out loud."

"Shows how much you know," I responded, winking at her. "So, are we going to go in and talk to her or just stand here and stare like some creepy stalkers?"

"Let's go," she said, her hand reaching for the door handle I hadn't noticed.

As soon as Hermione's shoes clicked against the tile floor of the potions labs, Pansy looked up and straight at us. Her eyes were green and inquisitive, and she scanned me from head-to-toe. I watched her face, noticing the way the smallest tinge of pink made its way into her cheeks.

"Pansy, this is Charlie, Charlie Weasley."

"I—uh—Hi," Pansy replied, even more colour rising into her face as she faltered. "Welcome to… my… _our_ lab."

I held back the chuckle that was threatening to escape, and Hermione looked at Pansy like she'd sprouted a unicorn horn in the middle of her forehead.

"It's nice to meet you, Pansy," I said, extending a hand to shake hers.

She reached out, and I noticed how delicate her hand was — tiny and manicured, her nails painted a deep shade of red — when encased by mine. I held on just a second too long and she pulled away, making me immediately miss the contact, the feel of her skin against mine, even if it was just our hands touching.

Until about five minutes ago, I had never believed in love at first sight, but now I was questioning everything, wondering if maybe it did exist.

However, based on her stony silence, it was clear that she didn't feel the same. Or she saw a Weasley and believed I was like my youngest brother. Or poor. Or a combination of those two and didn't consider me worthy of her attention.

Sliding my hands into the pockets of my jeans, I turned to glance at Hermione, hoping she'd get the conversation going.

Thankfully, she took the cue. "He's going to put us in contact with the Sanctuary in Romania so we can hopefully import some dragon scales and other things from them. He offered to bring them to you personally, but I told him we want everything to go through the proper channels."

"Makes sense," Pansy said. "It would be really… great… if we had a steady supply of them."

Her back was no longer straight and she wasn't walking around the room. In fact, everyone in the room was staring at her, and I wished they would all get back to work. I was sure that with some noise, she'd feel more comfortable, more confident.

Looking at her with concern, Hermione asked, "Are you okay, Pans?"

"Of course," she replied quickly, but she didn't elaborate.

Hermione frowned and looked like she was going to speak again. I cut in quickly. "You were running around here before we came in. Did we interrupt something?"

Pansy finally glanced around the lab again. "They're just brewing some"—she paused, like she couldn't remember what was in the cauldrons, even though she'd been scrutinising each one—"modified Pepper-Up Potion."

"Excellent! I got through my NEWTs by taking that stuff," I commented.

She just nodded and I was shocked.

Had I really rattled her that much? She was nothing like the woman Hermione had described. She didn't even have the slightest hint of confidence or snark. I wanted to redirect her, to make her talk about something she was passionate about. Since we were in her lab, I decided to stick to work.

"So, do you have a specific project you need the dragon scales for?"

Pansy's lips parted, but nothing came out. Her green eyes quickly darted to Hermione, like she was begging for help.

"You know, Pans, you seem really… busy," Hermione began, looping her arm through mine and starting to pull me through the door. "I just wanted to show Charlie the lab and introduce you two. I still have to bring him to the greenhouse, so we'll head out. I'm sure you'll have the opportunity to chat another time."

"Definitely. I'll come back again soon," I said, making sure that she knew I'd be around.

As the door closed, I glanced back over my shoulder. Pansy was staring at me, her face blank save for the small crease between her brows. I smiled at her but she didn't react, only watched us for a few more beats then turned away, returning to her staff.

If Hermione got her way, I would be dealing directly with Pansy, and this hadn't been a great start. Did she hate me because of what Ron had done? If she did, I had no chance.

However, I wanted to see her again. Wanted the chance to talk to her, to explain I was nothing like my younger brother. That what he'd done to her friend was unforgivable.

But mostly I wanted to know why it was I had rendered her completely speechless.

* * *

As Hermione and I sat at a small pub near MZP, my thoughts kept drifting to Pansy Parkinson. After we'd left the potions lab, I'd half-heartedly followed Hermione around, wandering through the greenhouses and the rest of the building. While I was interested in every aspect of the business they were trying to build, I couldn't shake the feeling that Pansy took issue with me.

And, given my reaction to her, I hated that feeling. A lot. I wanted her to like me, to want to spend time with me. I wanted to get to know her, and that wouldn't be possible if she didn't speak to me the next time I saw her.

"Charlie?" Hermione said, snapping me back to the present. "Are you alright? It seems like you're somewhere else entirely."

I gave my head a gentle shake. "Sorry. I'm just… thinking,"

She gave me a knowing smile. "Pansy, right?"

"Yeah. She's…" I trailed off, unable to put what I wanted to say into the right words.

"Different? Gorgeous? A brilliant conversationalist?"

Laughing, I replied, "I'm sure she's all of those things, but I only really saw the gorgeous part, given her speechlessness."

"Yeah, I'm really not sure what got into her." Hermione took a sip of her water and then continued, "I mean, she hates Ronald and would _Avada_ him if she ever got the chance, but that shouldn't reflect poorly on you. You're your own person, and she's never met you before today."

With a shrug of my shoulders, I said, "It's possible that she sees it differently."

"She's friends with Ginny, so I can't understand why she wouldn't give you a chance."

I couldn't either, but I didn't want to keep talking about it. For some reason, the thought of Pansy hating me just because I was Ron's brother made my insides twist. It was completely irrational and unfair, especially since I hadn't spoken to my youngest brother in almost a year.

When I didn't answer, Hermione said, "Well, don't worry about it. I'll speak to her later on. You and I can go over all the information I want you to take back to Romania and we'll leave Pansy be for the day."

"Sounds good," I replied, even though I knew my mind would stay focused on the sassy potion girl.

* * *

***** PANSY *****

* * *

_What the hell had happened?_

I barely made it through the rest of the morning; the new staff probably thought I'd had an aneurysm, I was so out of it. And because of my distraction, their potions had failed and they'd cowered in fear of my reaction. Assuring them it wasn't their fault hadn't helped — my reputation as a hard-arse far preceded me and they'd left for the afternoon with promises of doing better.

And now, I was hiding in my office, my mind racing again, along with my heart.

Charlie Weasley.

_Weasley_.

_What the fuck was with that?_

Granger had told me she was meeting with him to discuss a trade agreement. I wasn't sure it was a good idea; the thought of a Weasley hanging around the offices made me seethe. After what the other Weasley piece of shit had done to her, I never understood why she was still friendly with the rest of them.

But now I did, and she would be getting a slap for not letting me know that Charlie Weasley was unlike any of his brothers.

I'd expected another scrawny, pale red head, looking disheveled and dressed poorly. I was definitely _not_ expecting the muscled man-cake in jeans and a t-shirt who walked through the door.

And I hated not being prepared. Hated that I acted like I did. I could barely string two words together. I was never like that with men — never like that with anyone. But Charlie Weasley turned me into one of those women I hated; simpering and acting like a fool over a man.

But he was… _fucking hell,_ he was hot. There was no other word for it. And simpering seemed to be the only appropriate response. He'd been pleasant and it had been hard to keep myself from melting at his smile. His skin was tanned from his time spent outside, his hair was cut short at the sides and slightly longer top, and I knew he'd pretty much just run his hands through it in a way of styling it. And when he shook my hand, the rough calluses had my stomach knotting and my mind thinking very dirty thoughts indeed.

And the way he was looking at me… Love at first sight was a ridiculous notion. No one fell in love with someone they just met. I certainly wouldn't. And certainly not with a Weasley, not after what his cockwomble of a younger brother did to my friend.

But that same friend didn't seem to have any issues with him. In fact, they appeared to be well acquainted and Granger looked extremely pleased that he'd be here on an almost weekly basis.

There was a knock on the door and without waiting for a response, Blaise stepped through.

"I was just in the lab." He glanced around and shook his head. My furniture was still shoved in the corner. Since I was rarely in my office, I had no use for it and had never unpacked. He shook his head again and perched himself on the edge of my desk, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why are you hiding in here?"

"I'm not hiding."

"You're never in here. And this certainly looks like hiding." He tilted his head to one side and smiled. A genuine smile, not his usual smart-arsed smirk. "What's going on, Pans?"

"Nothing." I leaned back in my chair, trying to act exhausted. "I just needed some quiet. I've been teaching kids all day. It's exhausting."

"Pans," he drawled. "We've been friends for years. This is not about teaching kids."

I pinched the bridge of my nose; Blaise knew me too well.

"Fine," I relented. "Granger brought Weasley through today. Charlie Weasley."

He waited for me to say more, rolling his eyes when I didn't.

"They swung by my office just after lunch." He shrugged. "He seems to be a decent guy."

"But he's a Weasley."

"He's not _that_ Weasley."

"I know that, but who is he loyal to? Us or his brother?"

"We spoke for a while, and I can say his loyalty lies with Granger, without question. He adores her, and I'm sure his dickwad of a brother has been told as such."

"She's changing a lot of things around here," I said weakly, trying to deflect from Charlie.

"For the better," Blaise pointed out. "The Sanctuary wouldn't have even dealt with us if it wasn't for her. And Charlie's interested in what we're doing here. I'm sure if we wanted to go, he'd happily show us around the Sanctuary."

I shrugged nonchalantly. "I have no interest in going to Romania."

"Liar," Blaise laughed. "You'd give your left arm to see a dragon up close. I'm sure if you asked him nicely, Charlie would gladly give you a tour. He might even show you the hatchlings."

I scowled. It would be a dream to see the Sanctuary, even more so to see the baby dragons.

"Draco wouldn't object to a business trip to Romania," Blaise said thoughtfully. "You busy next weekend? Or did you ask Charlie out?"

I almost choked. " _What_!?"

"You like this bloke, right? That's why you're being a douche and objecting to having him here."

"I only met him for five minutes."

"Yeah, Granger told me." His infamous smirk had finally appeared. "She also told me you were acting really weird. Not speaking to him, scowling… the usual from you. But she's worried you hate her for asking him to help us. I know it's the exact opposite. You're terrified of falling for him."

" _Five minutes_ , Blaise. No one falls for someone after five minutes." I scowled deliberately at him. " _You_ might, but _normal_ people don't.

"Like I said, Pans, I've known you forever and you've only acted like this once before. I think _Potter_ was his name."

I punched his thigh. Only Draco and Blaise knew about my stupid first-year schoolgirl crush on Harry, and they were sworn to secrecy. And while I knew she'd most likely find it hilarious, I didn't need Ginny hating on me for something from years ago.

" _Everyone_ had a crush on The Chosen One. Even you," I snarked.

He laughed again. "Oh, darling. If you're slinging falsities, you've got it bad. Ask Charlie out. Get naked and ride him like a dragon."

"Arse."

"If that's your preference…"

"You need to leave." I shoved at him but he didn't budge.

"This guy has your knickers all wet, so you need to tell me why you're not doing anything about it."

"Blaise…" I groaned.

"Come on, Pans. Talk to me. Is this just lust at first sight, or have you fallen for him?"

I looked up at him. Blaise was rarely serious when it came to matters of the opposite sex. Especially with his friends. We were a free target — in his opinion — and no comment was off limits. But this time he seemed genuinely concerned about what I was feeling.

"I don't know," I finally admitted. "I don't believe in love at first sight. But there was something…"

"Something?" he enquired. "What kind of something?"

I shrugged. "It's hard to explain. It wasn't butterflies in my stomach or anything, it was just… _gah_! I don't fucking know!"

He reached for my hand and winked at me. "I think you're in love, my friend."

"How would you know? You've never loved anyone but yourself," I snapped, frustrated that he knew me so well.

"That's not true. I love you." He lifted my hand and kissed the back of it. "And this is completely unlike you. If you see something you want, you usually go after it. What's holding you back this time?"

"There's no point, is there? He lives… a million miles away."

Blaise laughed. "Romania isn't a million miles away. And he'll be here every week if Hermione gets her way."

"Would you be happy seeing someone you… someone only once a week?"

"Probably not, but if it was someone I wanted as much as I think you want him, it would be worth the sacrifice."

"It was five minutes." I yanked my hand from his. "It's not worth any sacrifice. He probably thinks I'm a braindead idiot anyway."

"You probably acted a bit out of character, but I'm sure he doesn't think that. I saw his confusion when I spoke to him."

"What do you mean?"

"Hermione and I were explaining some of the potions you're inventing and he was definitely impressed, but he also seemed a little dumbfounded that we were talking about the same brilliant woman."

I rolled my eyes. "Like I said, he thinks I'm braindead."

"Pans, listen. Speaking as a guy here—" he winked and I couldn't help but smile "—you'd be a total catch. Brilliant, snarky, beautiful. You're everything a decent man wants."

"Maybe I don't want a decent man. Maybe I want someone rough and hard and who knows what they're doing."

"Then Charlie would be perfect."

"Maybe _you_ should ask him out."

"You could do a lot worse than Charlie Weasley. And he _is_ a decent guy. You keep saying you only met him for five minutes, but clearly your instincts are telling you there's more to him than five minutes allowed." He stood and squeezed my shoulder. "Give him a chance, Pansy, he could be the best thing that ever happened to you."

* * *

My talk with Blaise hadn't helped my confusion. I'd acted like a complete fool and Charlie had noticed. Any attraction to him I might have had may as well be given up; he clearly thought I was stupid.

No reassurances from Blaise would change that.

I sighed and looked around my lab. It was late and the only light on in the entire building was this one. I spent most of my time here, working long hours since I had nothing but an empty flat to go home to. And until I realised there was a half-eaten sandwich on the bench and my coffee had gone cold hours ago, I hadn't thought it a sad existence.

I loved my work, loved the space we'd set up. Loved that I had the opportunity to experiment and change the traditional ways of potion making. We'd worked hard to start our company, and Draco and Blaise's idea to bring Granger on board was a stroke of genius — not that I'd ever tell them that. And in turn, her idea to work with the dragon sanctuary proved that exact genius. Scales and blood and claws were almost impossible to get and potion makers fought fiercely for them. But to have such easy and regular access to them was exactly what I needed.

But Charlie…

Charlie was the most confusing thing to stroll casually into my life.

Easy and regular access to _him_ terrified me.

My feelings were completely foreign to me. I'd been with guys, of course I had, but none of them had made me feel like Charlie had. And it had only been five minutes.

I liked to have the upper hand, but this was something I couldn't even begin to know how to control. Feelings were something that everyone else had. I was immune to them. I would defend the lives of my friends to the death, but love? I wasn't interested. All I needed was to scratch that itch once in a while; I didn't need someone in my life on a regular basis.

At least I thought I didn't.

In the first few seconds of him walking into my lab, pictures of Charlie flashed through my mind. In my kitchen, cooking. On my couch, my legs draped over his. In my bed, his body over mine. Sleeping beside me. Kissing me goodbye as we both left for work. Holding our firstborn child. It was all very domesticated and unlike anything I had ever imagined.

And I didn't do relationships. I wasn't interested in being attached to one single person forever. I watched my friends, watched their lives together, and while they all seemed happy and content, I just couldn't picture myself living that way.

I enjoyed my independence and had a clear vision of what my life would be, and I'd had that vision for as long as I could remember. It didn't include a husband or a child. It didn't include domestic bliss. My vision was my career, making potions and becoming known for it. I didn't necessarily want fame, but an acknowledgement for redefining potion making, for pushing the boundaries, experimenting and improving the old ways.

That was where my focus had always been.

That was where my focus _should_ be.

I had never once cared about the opinions of others when it came to me, and Charlie Weasley wasn't about to change that. And I certainly wasn't going to allow him — or anyone — to shift my focus and make me forget everything I had worked so hard to achieve.

But…

Walking towards the door, I turned and glanced around the lab once more. I did have a home to go to. A home that had a bed that was much more comfortable than the chair at my desk.

Flicking my wand, I whispered _Nox_ , extinguishing the lights, then pulled the door shut. I stopped by my office and retrieved the parchments I had been working on; I would spend my weekend at home instead of here, but I needed to study my notes again.

I smiled and laughed quietly; I had always been studious, but Granger was having more influence on me than I had ever thought possible.

* * *

I stared at the flames in the fireplace, mesmerised by the way they danced easily together. The wine in my glass was no longer chilled, and the parchments I had brought home were still neatly scrolled on the dining table. Curled into the corner of my couch, my chin rested on my hand, and my thoughts everywhere but where they should be.

Charlie Weasley.

Good, kind, Charlie Weasley.

Funny, sweet, Charlie Weasley.

Hot as sin, Charlie Weasley.

Charlie Weasley.

He wasn't the man I had expected him to be.

My initial opinion of him might have been somewhat skewed by the actions of his youngest brother, but I'd also been friends with Ginny long enough to know they weren't all the same.

"Put the fucking fire out, Parkinson!" Ginny's voice startled me. "Let me through!"

I grabbed my wand, wondering what the hell was going on, and aimed it at the fireplace, extinguishing the flames. Ginny stepped through almost immediately.

"Are you okay?"

She waved a hand at me. "I'm fine. Still in one piece."

"Aren't you supposed to be supervised at all times?" I nodded at her giant belly.

"Harry's working, and Hermione and Draco are… unavailable." She eased herself into the armchair and put her feet up on the coffee table. "So you get me tonight."

"Oh, yay for me," I said with an eye roll. Her pregnancy had been challenging, to say the least. Baby Potter had caused no small amount of grief for his mother. She had remained calm for the most part, but the last few weeks, Ginny had become uncomfortable and snippy.

The current grin on her face, however, told me her snippiness had been left at home.

"What?" I asked, refilling my wine glass and tilting it towards her with a smirk of my own. "I'd offer you one, but…"

"Funny," she snarked and conjured up a glass of water. "Hermione was really worried about you; she said you were being weird today. I'm just curious as to why."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I groaned. "You lot couldn't be more transparent if you tried."

She laughed. "It's okay, Pans, you're not alone. My brother has that effect on many women. Apparently he's considered hot."

"My stupidity today had nothing to do with your brother," I lied smoothly. "I have more things on my mind than worrying about Granger bringing Charlie on board."

"Really?" Her expression said she didn't believe a word I was saying. "You must have some heavy shit going on because it's pretty rare you're rendered mute."

I lifted my wine glass to my lips, eyeing her as I drank. Blaise must have spoken to Granger — which meant Draco also knew — and Granger had obviously told Ginny how moronic I'd been. I could just imagine them all strategising on how best to handle this. But with Draco and Granger occupied, and with Blaise not so secretly seeing Katie Bell, I guessed Ginny volunteered to poke at me.

But I had no intentions of telling her anything. They all seemed to think Charlie was somehow perfect for me, and yet I didn't know him at all.

"Oh, come on, Pans! I know he's my brother, but you can talk to me about him."

"There's nothing to talk about, Gin. I was busy teaching and spent all of five minutes with him."

She patted her belly. "Sometimes that's all it takes,"

"Eew." I grimaced. "I don't need to know about Harry's lack of stamina."

"Harry's stamina isn't lacking. I just meant, I knew Harry was it for me after only seeing him. I hadn't even spoken to him."

"You were ten."

"Exactly. I knew it all those years ago… before I even knew what _it_ was."

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you all, but Charlie _isn't_ it for me. So unless you're here to talk about anything but him, I suggest you get your fat arse out of my flat and go home."

"Nice," she snorted. "I'm just weeks away from having this baby and you feel it appropriate to insult me."

"And you feel it appropriate to come here tell me how perfect your brother is for me when I don't even know him."

She tilted her head and smiled. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry. I just like the idea of Charlie with someone like you."

"Meaning?"

"Someone who will challenge him," she answered. "Someone who will only ever be truthful and will realise he's more than just a pretty face. He's smart and fun and kind. And he deserves someone who will treat him the same."

"You're right," I agreed. "He does deserve that. I certainly hope he finds it."

She rolled her eyes, but thankfully she didn't press any further. The conflict I felt inside was something I wasn't yet sure of and I wasn't ready to talk about feelings I didn't yet understand.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

***** CHARLIE *****

* * *

As I walked down the London streets towards MZP, I felt more nervous than I ever did when approaching a nesting dragon. While Hermione had assured me that Pansy did not hate me—that she'd just been having an off day—I still felt uneasy about meeting with her again. I'd felt instantly attracted to her and it was obvious that she didn't return the sentiment.

But I wanted her to.

Since I'd returned to Romania, I'd been trying to think of ways to woo her, to make her see me in a different light. I knew she hated my brother, so I wanted to make myself stand out as different from him in every possible way.

Ron was lazy and liked to take the easy route, relying on his fame to attract women. Most of the time, I just let women come to me as well. Being a dragon tamer had its perks; they usually thought I was a bad boy with a wild side. And I could be. But, more than anything, I wanted to find the right woman to be bad with.

And I wanted to be bad with Pansy Parkinson. Very, very bad.

I wanted to get under her lab robes and figure out exactly what got her cauldron bubbling, for lack of a better term.

So I did something I never would've imagined.

I bought another fucking copy of Advanced Potion Making and I started studying. I read through all the recipes, looking for rare ingredients that were easy to come by if you worked at a dragon sanctuary with access to magical creatures and plenty of exotic flora and fauna. As I read, I made a list. And after I'd read through the whole bloody textbook, I set out to gather all those rare ingredients.

In addition to the dragon scales, I had several phials of dragon blood, raw dragon claws that had been shed, a few dragon heartstrings that had been collected and then passed over by wand makers, and more plant samples than anyone could know what to do with.

If she wasn't impressed by this lot, I wasn't really sure what I'd do next.

When I arrived at the imposing glass-fronted building, I checked in with the receptionist and then moved back to the windows, looking out on the busy street, the anticipation building in my stomach. I'd asked to see Pansy, not Hermione, and that was a gamble.

Hermione could be the perfect buffer until Pansy warmed up to me, but I wanted to see if she behaved the same away around me this time.

The lift dinged and it took all of my self-control to not whip around and make a beeline for her, like some sort of overeager puppy who'd been alone all day and was ready to beg for attention. I waited until I heard her heels hit the floor.

One, two, three, four, five clicking steps…

And I turned.

As I laid eyes on her, I lost the words I'd carefully selected. Her heels made her almost the same height as me and made her legs go on for days. She was wearing fitted trousers and a turquoise blouse that made her eyes look more blue than green. Her hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail; the entire look was both professional and sexy as hell.

She'd stopped about eight steps into the lobby and was looking me over, as well. I walked towards her and smiled.

"It's good to see you again, Pansy," I greeted, and she arched an eyebrow.

"I don't think we're quite that familiar yet, Mr Weasley."

I laughed. "Well, last time I saw you, I did insist that you call me Charlie, given the large number of Mr Weasleys in this part of the world."

"Well, as far as I know, I'm the only Ms Parkinson," she replied. "So you can stick to that for now. This is just business, after all."

Even if she was being a little standoffish, she had already managed to speak more words to me in a matter of seconds than she had the last time I'd seen her.

"Okay, Ms Parkinson. Let's head to your office. On top of the dragon scales, I brought you a few more things to consider."

Though she played it cool, I could tell I'd piqued her curiosity. The corners of her lips quirked up the tiniest amount and she gestured towards the lift.

I let her lead the way since this was her turf. I would give her every advantage if it meant I'd eventually get a shot.

We rode up in silence, Pansy looking anywhere but at me. Her cheeks were a bit flushed and it looked like she was squeezing her thighs together, though I couldn't be sure.

Once we stepped out of the lift, she said, "So, will you always be the one bringing the scales?"

"Not sure, but it's convenient. I get to come and visit for a day or two."

Pansy nodded, guiding me down the corridor to her office. Hermione's door was closed, but I caught a glimpse of her through the door of Draco's office, smiling as she leaned over his shoulder and looked at something.

With a huff, Pansy said, "They're so happy it's disgusting."

My breath almost caught at her words — this was my chance. It was my chance to let her know that I was happy for Hermione, that I didn't side with my brother, that I thought what he'd done was unforgivable.

"She deserves nothing but happiness after what Ron put her through."

My words were simple, to the point. They made my stance clear enough.

Pansy led me into her office without answering. After I entered, she waved her hand, closing the door. "I'm glad you feel that way. If you didn't, you'd be out on your arse faster than you could even imagine."

I held my hands up in surrender. "I promise you, Hermione is my friend. Ron may be my brother, but he's an arsehole."

"Fucking right he is," she responded. "Why don't you sit down?"

Before I settled in, I took the bag of ingredients out of my pocket. Opening it up, I found the requested dragon scales and handed her the jar. Our fingers almost touched as she took it from me, and I was nearly mortified that I was feeling sad that they hadn't.

Her fingernails were painted black today and I found that surprising, given her high-society pureblood upbringing. Pinks, natural tones, reds… Those were the norm. But black was edgy and I liked it. It showed that she was different.

"These are excellent, Charlie," she said with a small smile. "I've never seen scales preserved this well."

"It's easier to preserve them in that little jar than to heal them and protect them from the sun in the wild," I replied. "They should always look like that, Ms Parkinson."

She looked up. "If you really hate your brother, I suppose you can call me Pansy. I had to be sure of your character before I could allow it."

"Well, that was easier than I thought it would be," I teased. "I guess I didn't need to bring this extra stuff for you, after all."

Tilting her head to one side, Pansy examined me warily. "You brought me more things to try and win me over?"

"I did."

"I'm not the kind of pureblood girl who can be swayed by gifts—"

"What about ingredients, potion girl?" I interrupted.

"Potion girl?" she repeated. "What kind of name is that?"

"I like it. I think it's cute, and it suits you. I think that's what I'll call you."

I could tell she was trying to look angry, but there was a sparkle in her eyes that told me she actually loved it. "I just told you that you could call me Pansy."

With a wave, I said, "Everyone calls you Pansy. I'm not everyone." She didn't answer, and I was afraid I'd taken the teasing too far. "So, you never said if you could be swayed by ingredients."

Looking at me coolly, she replied, "It depends on the ingredient. Let's see what you've got in that sack, Charlie."

My mind debated making a filthy joke, but I thought it might be too soon to be that forward with her, so I reached in and grabbed something at random.

"So, item number one is a piece of heartstring taken from a Chinese Fireball."

She wore an unimpressed look. "I'm not a wandmaker. That's useless."

"Item number two," I began, pulling out a small glass jar. "Seedpods, or hips, from Romanian Dog Roses, _Rosa canina_."

"And what do you think I can do with seeds for a rose plant?"

I shrugged. "These roses are native to Romania. I figured there might be something different about them. At the very least, I'm sure Hermione could plant them and grow them."

"Next," Pansy said, like she was taking customers in a checkout queue.

Looking into the bag, I found the next item. "Freshly shed dragon claws?"

Her eyes widened. "Did you powder them?"

I shook my head. "The potions book said it's best to powder them closer to the time of use."

"You looked it up?" she asked.

"I did. I wanted everything to be right for you."

Once again, her cheeks flushed the tiniest amount. "Right. I appreciate that."

"So, have I won you over yet? Or should I keep going?"

She smirked. "Keep going. I want it all."

"I also have some dragon blood," I said, pulling out the unbreakable bottle. "We had a fight between two males this week, hence the shed claws and the blood. It's too hard to draw blood from a dragon without sedating it, so this is pretty rare."

"Isn't there some kind of extraction spell?" she mused aloud. "If there isn't, someone should develop one."

Shrugging, I pulled the next item out. "A cluster of celestine."

As she looked at the pale blue crystals, she smiled. "It's pretty, but I'm not really sure what you expect me to do with it as an ingredient."

"You use powdered moonstone and other stones in potions, yeah?"

"I suppose. I'll have to do more research, see if it's good for anything."

With a grin, I said, "You're a hard woman to impress, Pansy. I'm all out of offerings."

Rising to her feet, she gestured that I should do the same. "Lucky for you, I'm feeling generous. I'll take you on a tour of the lab if you'd like. I don't have students today, so it's far less chaotic."

"I'd love that, potion girl. Lead the way."

She rolled her eyes. "Do not call me that in front of my staff. I will hex your bollocks clear off."

"But what about my future children?"

I had wanted to tease her, to say what about _our_ future children, but she was still too skittish to accept that kind of flirtation.

"There are enough Weasleys already," she replied, but I could tell she didn't seriously mean it. "I don't think you need to worry about the family name living on."

"Well, that's true enough," I conceded.

Laughing, Pansy led me back to the lift and we rode down to the second floor, heading into her lab. As soon as she crossed the threshold, she wrapped a lab robe around her shoulders and pulled one from a shelf for me. I raised an eyebrow.

"Everyone that comes in here for more than a quick introduction has to wear one. It's to protect you and the integrity of any experiments in progress," she explained, her voice steady and sure, the complete opposite of the last time we were in this room. "If you want to see what we're working on, you need to wear the robe."

I took it from her and shrugged it on, buttoning it up the way she had. Once I was properly dressed, she gestured for me to follow her.

"As you can see, we have twenty-five different stations here. When I'm not teaching in this main lab, we're generally brewing things we have to mass produce."

Her fingertips ran along the stone bench we were passing by, drawing my eyes to her fingernails again and making me think about how they'd feel clawing at my shoulders, scratching down my spine, digging into my thighs as she balanced on my lap. Gods, I wanted that, to feel those little bites of pain while I pleasured her.

"—not for research. I don't let the new recipes into this lab until I'm certain they're perfect," she continued, and I hoped I hadn't missed anything truly important while I was fantasising. "Honestly, I hate how this lab looks, all sterile and boring. But Draco insists that everything be like this."

Again, she gestured with her hands, drawing my eyes to them and driving me crazy.

"It's like the lobby," I said, trying to focus on the conversation. "Nothing extra or unnecessary."

Pansy nodded. "Yeah. Neat and orderly. Honestly, if he were anyone else, I would've told him to shove his rules up his arse." Her words were biting, but she smiled. "But Draco, Blaise and I have been through a lot together, and I love being here, especially now that Granger's on board, too."

"She does seem to fit in."

"Anyway, through that door over there, I have my private lab," she said, changing the subject and continuing the tour. "But between the main lab and mine, there is a big storeroom for ingredients that aren't used frequently enough to keep them out in the main space."

Examining my surroundings, I realised there was no one in the lab at all, and she'd mentioned having a staff.

"Where is everyone?" I asked.

"I'm sure they're all having lunch or coffee or something," she replied, averting her eyes and making me wonder if she'd told them to clear out.

_Had she wanted to be alone with me in here?_

"Right. Well, keep the tour going, then. I'm enjoying it thus far."

Looking at me quizzically, she spread her arms. "This is it. Did you want a detailed map of where we keep everything? To inspect each individual cauldron?"

I laughed. "No, of course not. You haven't shown me your lab, though."

Pansy cleared her throat. "I don't let just anyone into my lab, Charlie."

"Why not?"

"A woman's lab is very… personal."

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to suppress my smile. "Personal? How is a lab personal?"

When she pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, I knew I hadn't managed to keep a straight face. "How do you do this?"

"Do what?"

"Make me say stupid things!"

"Potion girl, last time I was here, you hardly said anything at all," I answered, taking a step towards her. "I'm glad you're not tongue-tied this time. And what you said wasn't stupid."

"You wanted to laugh. I could tell."

"I thought it was cute."

Immediately, I knew that had been the wrong thing to say. She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "I am _not_ cute."

Since I had no idea how she would react, I just met her eyes, hoping she saw that I was being serious.

She huffed. "Why do you think it's cute?"

"You're just… different. Unexpected. You know you command attention, but when you get it, you try to hide. And now that you're all flustered, it's actually quite adorable."

It was honest, and she seemed to take it at face value.

"I'm like Granger. She's brilliant, but hates the notoriety."

"Are you saying you're brilliant?"

She gave me a haughty look. "I'm not _Granger_ brilliant, but I can hold my own."

"I'm sure you can." I dared to take her hand. "But don't ever compare yourself to her."

"Why?" She scowled and ripped her hand from mine. "Because I'm beneath her? Because she's a genius and I'm not?"

"No, that's not what I meant." I leaned in and touched her cheek. "You are not her, and she's not you. You work in different fields, and from what I've seen, you _are_ a genius when it comes to all of this." I glanced around quickly, then returned my gaze to hers. "Hermione is a brilliant witch, everyone knows that, but so are you. And I won't let anyone, including yourself, say otherwise."

Her scowl dropped and she fought her smile — unsuccessfully.

"You're quite the sweet talker, Charlie Weasley. I'm surprised you don't have a line of starry-eyed bints behind you."

"Who says I don't?"

She glanced over my shoulder making me laugh, then looked back at me. "Not seeing any."

"Well, I may have lied. I don't really go for the bints. I prefer smart women, the ones I can actually talk to. Women who went to school to learn, not just fawn over the boys. Strong women who aren't afraid to speak their minds, who know what they want and don't let _anything_ stand in their way."

"Smooth," she chuckled. "Did you do an extra year at charm school?"

"No. I was taught respect from the strong woman who raised me."

"Molly did well with you at least."

"She did well with most of us."

I let my words hang between us, let her decide for herself exactly what I meant.

She nodded and smiled. "Well, thank the goddesses for that."

"Every one of them," I agreed. "So, have I charmed you into giving me access to your lab?"

"Fine," she huffed through a laugh. "You haven't charmed me, but I'll let you into my lab. Keep your hands to yourself, though. I don't need you touching anything of mine without permission."

I held both my hands up and grinned. "I wouldn't dream of touching anything of yours without your permission, potion girl."

She bit her lip, holding something back, and I longed to know what it was. Before I could think of a way to ask, she turned and started moving towards the door that led to her lab. I followed in her wake, my eyes roaming over her.

"So, it looks a bit different from the rest of the building," Pansy began, her voice sounding like a warning. "But I told Draco that my personal lab was mine and that we never had to show it to anyone."

"I work with dragons," I reminded her. "I don't always have tidy conditions. I'm sure I won't be shocked and appalled by the state of your lab."

But as she held open the door and ushered me through, I was somewhat surprised at the state it was in. The absolute sterility of the main lab was not reflected in here. This was more like the potion dungeon at Hogwarts. A large wooden table held place in the centre of the room, four cauldrons that had seen better days sat atop it. Ingredients were strewn across the table and surrounding workbenches, potion bottles were toppled over, and the floor didn't look like it had been swept in weeks.

It was yet another glimpse into who this woman really was.

"Don't judge me," she said, biting her lip again. "I'm not usually this untidy, but it's a mess in here because it should be. Draco doesn't agree, but potions are meant to be messy—"

"I'm not judging you," I assured her and picked up a toppled over bottle. "This reminds me of potions class; it's how things should be."

She glanced around, "Snape would never have allowed this."

"No, probably not. But like you said, this is your space, you can do as you wish with it."

Her eyes flicked to the front of my jeans before she quickly looked away. I bit back my smirk; with one quick glance she confirmed my earlier observation. And I wondered if I could actually convince her to allow me permission to touch _something_ of hers and discover just how tightly her thighs were squeezed together.

I picked up another bottle, and held it up. "What are you brewing?"

" _Um…_. actually it's, _ah_ , a longer lasting contraceptive potion." Her cheeks flushed and she fidgeted with a stray leaf on the workbench.

"Longer lasting?"

"Yeah," she replied, but didn't look up. "It would only have to be taken once a week instead of every day. It's more expensive than a single daily dose, but less expensive than a week's worth of potions."

"And you came up with this?"

She nodded in response.

"Well, the women of this world will certainly thank you."

"It's not just for women." She finally looked up at me. "Men can take it too."

"Men? Wow," I shook my head in wonder at her. "I think my statement was correct. Women will _definitely_ thank you."

"Maybe, but our biggest problem will be getting all of you precious men to take it."

I uncorked the small bottle and sniffed. It had a slightly pungent odour but wasn't unpleasant. "It's safe?"

"Perfectly safe."

I winked at her and swallowed the contents of the bottle. "I'm good for a week?"

"Yeah." She frowned at me. "I'm sure the line-up of bints will be grateful."

"And I already told you, there's no line up."

"So why'd you drink it?"

"I live in hope, potion girl." I placed the bottle back on the workbench and stared at her. "I always live in hope."

* * *

***** PANSY *****

* * *

After Charlie walked out of my lab, I looked around and examined the mess more thoroughly. Yes, potion making was supposed to be dirty, but even I had to admit that this was on the extreme side.

The previous night, I'd spent hours working on a new brew and by the time I was finished, I couldn't have cared less about wayward bits of ingredients and tipped-over bottles. I'd bottled the potion and then locked up, Apparating back to my flat and collapsing into bed.

It had been after ten o'clock, and I'd arrived at MZP around eight that morning.

With a sigh, I started cleaning up, casting a gentler cleaning charm than a _Scourgify_ on the cauldrons and vanishing the spare bits of sliced valerian root and dried-up newt spleen. I thought of Molly Weasley — the consummate housewife — and I couldn't imagine her space ever being in such a state. Hell, even Ginny Weasley was masterful at household spells, and she'd been away playing Quidditch for years. Gods, I could only imagine the looks on their faces.

And then I started to wonder why the fuck I cared about what the Weasley matriarch would think of me and my messy workspace in the first place.

While I was tidying up and trying to burn off this _feeling_ Charlie had caused in me, I hardly noticed time passing or the sounds around me. A chuckle came from the doorway and I looked up, finding Draco leaning against the door jamb.

"Don't let me stop you, Pansy," he began, a teasing tone in his voice. "I was just wondering what the special occasion was."

Narrowing my eyes, I said, "Fuck off."

"If you're cleaning this disaster area, I'm genuinely concerned."

I dropped my wand onto the workbench, making a satisfying clatter. "What do you want? Don't you and Granger have somewhere to be? Like at the beach house shagging?"

He looked at his watch. "It's only three. I'm not due to shag her until six."

With a shake of my head, I moved to the other side of the room and started organising the askew jars on the shelf.

"Did you actually need something? Or are you just here to bother me?"

Draco moved closer, stepping up beside me and straightening a few boxes. "I ran into Charlie when he was on his way out. He said he brought you some ingredients."

I couldn't stop my traitorous lips from smiling.

"He did. Good stuff, too. Dragon scales and blood and shed claws and some other things I'll have to research a bit," I began, continuing to neaten the ingredients I kept in my private stores. "He even looked up how to preserve and store everything."

"Well, that was good of him."

"Brilliant, really."

In my peripheral vision, I saw Draco examining my face, and I wondered if Blaise had put him up to this. If he had, I'd _Avada_ him so fucking fast.

"Blaise told him we'd all like to come out to Romania for a look at the dragon sanctuary." He turned towards me and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Charlie said he would try to make arrangements for that."

Shaking my head, I said, "I've no interest in going to Romania. For anything. I already told Blaise that."

"But they have baby dragons there."

"I'm well aware, Draco, but I've got a lot on my plate presently. I'm in the middle of developing or improving at least five potions, and I can't be away from the lab for days—"

"We have a perfectly capable staff, Pansy."

"Yes, well, I can't entrust these projects to just anyone," I stated, hoping he'd understand that I was quite literally begging him to stop pushing. "It's not like we have another potioneer at my level, and I don't think we're at the point where we can hire one yet."

"Fine. If you don't want to come to Romania, you don't have to. But Blaise—"

"Blaise needs to mind his own fucking business."

He held his hands up in surrender. "I get it. He likes to meddle but, if I'm not mistaken, you weren't exactly silent when things started between Hermione and me."

Groaning in frustration, I moved away from him. "Yes, well, I watched you pine after her for years. I have interacted with Charlie Weasley exactly two times now. There's no need for the two of you to get involved. It's like I told Blaise — he lives in Romania and I live here. There's nothing to meddle in."

"Pansy—"

"Stop. Just because you're disgustingly happy and in love doesn't mean I am too. Or that I need to be, for that matter."

He just shook his head. "I don't understand why you have to be so difficult. The bloke seems interested in you. He was smiling when he talked about seeing your lab."

That made me pause.

"And then he told me that he'd be coming back later this week."

I felt my throat tighten, so I cleared it. "Why's he coming back?"

Draco shrugged. "Not sure, since there's apparently nothing to meddle in."

And, like the maddening arsehole he was, he turned and walked out, leaving me to think on what he'd just said.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

***** CHARLIE *****

* * *

Hermione had been right; Draco and Blaise were like a pair of excited two year olds on Christmas morning. She'd mentioned that Harry had tried to swap his weekend shift, but it had been in vain. He'd been to the Sanctuary with my sister — the fact that Ginny was due any day, there was no way she'd let him come anyway — but a weekend with the boys? Knowing my brother-in-law, he'd be disappointed he would miss it.

_My_ disappointment was that my potion girl had refused to come with them. I'd been looking forward to seeing her away from the labs.

Seeing what she wore _under_ those robes.

The fantasies that had played out in my head had been some of the most erotic imaginings I'd ever had. Pansy stretched out on my bed, my face buried between her thighs. On all fours in front of me while I spanked her arse and fucked her wet cunt. Her mouth wrapped around my cock, my hands twisted into her hair. Lying quietly afterwards, cuddled together half asleep.

Her belly stretched and swollen and carrying our child.

And it was the last fantasy that filled my head the most.

Since I'd been surrounded by siblings all my life, having children of my own wasn't something I'd ever been interested in. Having met Pansy, however, everything I thought I wanted had changed. A wife and child. A life away from the Sanctuary. My path had veered from the course it had been on. And it had veered in a direction that always took me to her.

A dragon screeched overhead, drawing my eyes to the sky. The Chinese Fireball took off like a rocket; the sight would usually have my heart racing, but I only felt the numbness I always did of late when I returned to Romania. My love of the Sanctuary would never change, but my want to stay longer and longer in London was an ache I couldn't get away from.

I watched the dragon until it was out of sight and sighed. I was at a loss with Pansy; she was a puzzle I just couldn't work out. Every time I returned to London, I saw glimpses of the sassy woman I'd heard about, saw the smile, the spark in her eyes, but I just couldn't seem to break through her shell.

She protected herself like no one I had ever known. I guess I understood, in part. She'd been on the opposite side in the war, had been a purist through and through. But if Hermione saw the good in her, I knew it was definitely there.

But I saw it myself anyway. Pansy had a sweet side, had a kindness hidden beneath her hard exterior. She worked hard to improve herself, but she also worked hard to help everyone around her. She spoke highly of the students she was teaching, and her loyalty to Draco and Blaise was something I was sure would never change. And I didn't want it to. I didn't want to change anything about her, other than tearing down her walls and having her let me in.

However, I had no idea how to do that.

"Was that a Fireball?"

"Yeah," I answered and turned to see my weekend companions staring up at the sky as they walked towards me. "A male looking for a mate."

"Well, good luck to him," Draco said and stopped beside me. "Maybe we can come back and see his babies hatch."

"You saw a hatching this morning?"

"No." Blaise crossed his arms over his chest. "Lots of movement, no cracked shells."

"You still have two more days here, so you might get to see one hatch. We have a Vipertooth due any day now."

"Pansy will be pissed off if we see that. She's fascinated by baby dragons, especially the vicious ones. And Vipertooths have always been her favourites." He shook his head. "I still don't know why she didn't want to come."

I ignored his comment — knowing full well why she didn't want to come here — and pointed across the clearing. "We're housing wood lizards just inside the forest. They're not technically dragons, but they're still awesome."

"They're tiny, right?" Draco asked as we began walking across the clearing.

"Just a few inches," I replied. "We're helping Peru and Ecuador with a new breeding program, and this is one of the safest places for them. There are only twelve species of this particular genus, and three of those were only discovered in the last few years. But of course, deforestation is causing problems, so we stepped in and offered assistance."

"I wasn't aware the sanctuary did that." Blaise looked impressed.

"We help across the globe where we can. It's what we're all about. The dragons are our priority, of course, but we're trained in all manner of creatures so we get small lizards and rare birds here as well."

"Only small ones? Not bigger lizards?" Draco asked.

"No, unfortunately we discovered the dragons like to snack on them, so we shifted the larger lizards to the Sanctuary in Indonesia. They're thriving there; it's the perfect climate for them."

"And the birds?" Blaise looked towards the tree tops and Draco laughed.

"I'm sure they're not interested in you, princess." Draco glanced at me, grinning. "He had a terrifying experience with my father's peacocks as a child."

I chuckled. "Yeah, that'd make you nervous. But you'll be fine. The birds pretty much look after themselves. We only get involved when they're injured."

"And the dragons don't fight for space in the sky with them?" Blaise was still glancing up.

"We had an Occamy try to take on some young dragons a few months back — it wasn't pleasant — but usually they're happy to share."

"Never a dull moment then?"

"Rarely," I laughed. "You always have to be on your toes."

"This place is incredible, Charlie. I'm sorry I've not visited before now," Draco said. "I love what I'm seeing here. We may have to work out a way to be more involved."

I smiled. The spoiled brat I'd heard of had become quite the businessman. They'd only arrived the night before and his brain hadn't turned off since, looking not only at the dragons, but also at the plants and shrubs and the possibilities they might contain. He was constantly taking notes and his questions were endless. I could see why Hermione had fallen for him — they were a perfect match.

"You're thinking of some kind of partnership?" Blaise asked.

"It's possible," Draco mused. "I have a large fortune I inherited and don't really want, and I think it could be used wisely here. This place is something I could definitely get behind."

"All donations are gladly accepted," I told him. "The Ministries across the world all contribute, but it's never enough. I'll hook you up with the director before you leave."

"That would be perfect, thanks." Draco nodded. "And what about the partnership you're after?"

"Excuse me?"

"The potion girl in our labs," Blaise said with a grin. "The partnership you both want but are too stubborn to move forward with."

"I'm not the stubborn one," I said without thinking and they both laughed.

"No, you're really not." Draco clapped his hand on my back. "She's not easy, Charlie, but she's worth it."

"And don't let her cool exterior fool you," Blaise added. "It's just a front. She's got a good heart and I know she's just nervous about getting in too deep with you."

"Nervous because of me?"

Blaise nodded. "She still believes she's not worthy of anyone. She's allowed Granger, Potter, and your sister into her life, but it took some time for her to truly believe they weren't trying to make her look like a fool."

"They're good people. They wouldn't do that," I said slightly indignantly. "My brother was a complete prat, but they aren't like him."

"She knows that now, but everything she did and said during the war—" Draco shrugged "—she still hates herself for it."

"But she was influenced by forces she had no control over. And far too young to make the decision to go against everything she was raised to believe."

"We all were, but she seems to believe she doesn't deserve to be happy," Blaise explained. "But I've seen the way she looks at you, and maybe she can be convinced otherwise."

I glanced at them both, unsure what to say. I'd gotten to know them both more with each visit to their offices, but since Pansy was one of their closest friends, I had to assume there would be some kind of warning that went along with their encouragement.

"You don't have to worry about us," Draco assured me. "We're her friends and yes, we are protective of her, but we also know she needs help pulling her head out of her arse and being shoved in the right direction."

"And that direction is…?"

"Towards you," Blaise stated. "That is what _you_ want, right?"

"It is," I admitted. "But honestly, I'm not sure it's what she wants."

"Oh, believe us, it is," Blaise laughed.

"Have you asked her out?" Draco asked and I shook my head.

"It's always awkward between us. There are days when I get the feeling she wants me to ask her, but other times I get a strong vibe that she _doesn't_ want me to."

"She wants you to," Blaise said. "She'll be all haughty and nonchalant about it, but she'll say yes."

"And do I get a big brother warning from you both?"

They looked at each other and started to laugh.

"What?" I glanced between them, confused.

"She's the one who needs the warning," Draco said. "She has been known to chew men up and spit them out."

"You're not seeing the real Pansy, mate," Blaise added. "We've never seen her like this, you've got some kind of superpower. No one has ever silenced Pansy Parkinson."

"It wasn't my intention. I had no idea what I was walking into that first day."

"Neither did she," Blaise chuckled. "I think she was expecting your brother to walk in."

"Yeah, she did mention that."

"Did she also mention she knows you're not him?" Draco asked and I wondered at the neutrality in his expression.

Ginny had mentioned that Hermione didn't allow anyone to speak ill of my youngest brother, despite what he'd done to her. I guessed Draco was sticking to her rules, even though she was fifteen hundred miles away.

"She knows my view on what he did," I told them. "But I'm just not sure how to read her. I think she still sees what he did as something I might do."

"We didn't realise how much she admired Hermione until your brother fucked her over. She had to be held down, or he would be missing certain parts," Draco said and then shared a look that said they agreed with her, but I was sure they also knew Hermione would do the same to them if they broke her rules.

"Charlie, just ask her out," Blaise said. "She's not the mental case you've been seeing — she's actually intelligent and fun."

"And when you meet the _real_ Pansy," Draco added. "You'll understand why you're already under her spell."

* * *

***** PANSY *****

* * *

"So…" Granger was grinning as she wandered into my lab. "I just spoke with Draco; the boys are loving their field trip."

I rolled my eyes. Blaise's wish of going to Romania had finally come true. After weeks of harping on about it, he finally convinced Draco it would be wise for them to see the inner workings of the Sanctuary and ensure the dragons weren't being harmed in the collection of ingredients. It was a complete ruse and we all knew it. It was nothing more than the ultimate boys weekend — chasing dragons in a foreign country — and Draco had only held out as long as he did because he hadn't wanted to seem overeager to go. They'd been acting like two-year-olds hyped up on sugar for the last week and I was glad it would be out of their systems by Monday so we could return to normal.

"They'll be talking about it for weeks," I replied. "You'll be holidaying in Romania for the rest of your life."

"If I get to watch baby dragons hatch, absolutely I'll be holidaying there," she countered smugly.

"What is with you all and baby dragons?" I snarked. "Blaise was raving about them before he left. You all seem to think they're sweet, but I'm sure they're just smaller versions of the savage adults."

"Pansy…"

" _Hermione_ …"

"Come on."

"Come on, what?"

She stared at me and I continued to work, feeling the heaviness of her eyes on me. I knew exactly what she was getting at, but I refused to just give in. She hid from us for weeks, not letting anyone — except Draco — know what she was feeling, so she needed to ask me exactly what she wanted to know instead of playing games.

The silence stretched on and I continued to watch the cauldron in front of me. And while I was more than confident in what I was doing, having Hermione Granger watch me always made me nervous. Potions weren't her forte, but she soaked up information like a Niffler stole gold. There was a reason she was called the brightest witch, and working with her every day I understood that reason better than ever.

But I'd also learned she could be sneaky and shrewd.

I added boomslang skin to the cauldron and stirred it clockwise, then slowly shaved the ginger root into the potion, aware that she was watching my every move.

"Beautification potion?" she finally asked.

"Hmm," I hummed in response, watching as the potion began to bubble and change colour.

"Special order?"

I nodded; she was too smart. It wasn't a potion we made on a regular basis, but a very rich French client's daughter was getting married and wanted to look her best.

"For Monsieur Autry?"

I glanced up at her, surprised.

"His daughter is getting married in three weeks," she said with a shrug and watched as I stirred the potion once more then extinguished the flames.

It would have to cool before I could bottle it.

"Charlie was here twice this week," she said offhandedly.

I lowered my eyes; if I looked at her my grin would give me away. She might have been the brightest witch, but she was also completely transparent.

"He needed to organise a few last minute things with the excited two-year-olds. Plus, two dragons shed claws this week. He wanted to deliver them before they were unusable."

"Oh, that was very thoughtful of him." She dragged a stool to the workbench and sat opposite me, leaning on her elbows. "I'm so glad he's enjoying this partnership."

I stirred the cauldron again, still refusing to look up. "Yeah."

She picked up the small bottle in front of her, dragging her thumb over the label — _dragon blood._

"It's from an injured dragon," I said quickly. "You know he'd never harm a living creature."

"Pansy?"

"Yeah?"

"It's okay to admit you like him."

I finally glanced up, waiting for her smart remark. I would have deserved it after all the comments I'd made about her and Draco, but she was simply smiling at me.

"I don't like him." I felt my cheeks heat up. "Not in the way you're suggesting. He's smart and takes amazing care of the dragons and all the ingredients he brings have been well preserved. That's all."

"Pans, Charlie is such a great guy." She paused, twisting her lips in that annoying way she had when she was being overly cautious. "He's not like Ronald."

"I know," I answered. And I _did_ know. In the weeks since he'd begun dropping in, I learned quickly he was nothing like his douche of a brother.

"So what's the problem?"

"Why would there be a problem?"

"Because you clearly like him more than you're willing to admit. And if you don't do something about it, he'll find someone else."

The thought turned my stomach.

"Listen," Granger began. "You don't have to be the tough hard-arse with a point to prove all the time. You've more than proven yourself to everyone. Charlie included."

"I'm not trying to prove anything to Charlie."

"I know, and you don't have to. He was impressed with you the first day he was here." She picked up the small glass jar — the seed pods that I should have given her but couldn't part with — and she frowned. "You're allowed to let people in. Even if they're not the people you thought you should."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Absolutely." She pointed a finger at me. "And you were the one who encouraged me, so I'm doing the same to you. Give Charlie a chance."

I glanced down at the cooling potion. The dragon claws Charlie had delivered a week ago were a godsend — I'd already powdered and brewed them into three different potions, and those potions had been sold before they'd even cooled in their bottles.

"I don't want to get hurt," I admitted quietly.

"And you won't," Granger said with such assurance I almost believed her. "Charlie has a good heart, and I'm certain that heart already belongs to you."

"I'm sure that's not true. He doesn't even know me. Not really. He's only ever seen me here."

"And he'll only ever see you here if you don't give him a chance."

"He's not…" I began then glanced away. "He's not my type."

"Good looking, smart, kind." She paused, grinning. "Built. That's not your type?"

"No. I like ugly idiots."

"You're the idiot here." She stood and shook her head. "Yes, he's a Weasley. And with the exception of the youngest brother, they're good people. _Very_ good people. And he'll never tell you, but Charlie, Bill and George pay all of Molly and Arthur's expenses, send them on a holiday each year, and sneak extra gold into their vault whenever they can. They had so little growing up, but Molly and Arthur did the best they could. They made sure their children had a home and a family, and that's what they see as important. Not material things. So, believe me, if Charlie Weasley thinks you're important, he'll lay his life down for you."

I watched, dumbfounded, as she returned the stool back to its place.

"If you're not interested in Charlie you need to tell him. He's head over heels for you, Pansy, and he deserves to know if you don't feel anything for him." She headed for the door, pausing and turning back to me. "You told me that you would rip me a new one if I hurt Draco, so I'll tell you the same. He's my friend and like you with Draco, Charlie's friendship is more important to me than you are."

She left without another word, leaving me to stare at the door as it slowly closed.

I'd seen Hermione Granger angry, had seen what she could do when she was pushed too far. My warning to her was nothing in comparison to the way she had looked at me just now. Family might have been important to the Weasleys, but family meant _everything_ to her.

She loved Draco with a fierceness I'd not expected, and Blaise and I had been pulled into her world and accepted with very little fuss. She was loyal and once you had earned her trust, you were considered family. I also knew that if you pissed her off, you were in danger of becoming a pile of dust.

I lifted the cauldron from the stand, poured the colourful liquid into a bottle, and pressed the label onto it. In the morning, I would send an owl to let the client know it was ready. I crossed to the sink and rolled up my sleeves. I began scrubbing the cauldron, and my thoughts returned to Charlie.

He did deserve more than I was currently giving him. I wasn't exactly sure what my feelings were, but I knew they were more than me wanting to be _just friends._ His ability to make me trip over my tongue, or render me silent. The fact I looked forward to seeing him each week. His blue eyes and friendly smile that made my stomach flip. I'd never felt anything like that before.

_Was_ it something I wanted? Was Charlie the man who would challenge me? Was he the one who would make me believe I could have everything I had worked for _and_ all the things I didn't dare to dream of?

I paused and glanced around the lab. It was another Friday night and I was still here. And all I had was an empty house to go home to.

Granger was right; I wouldn't know until I gave Charlie a chance.


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

***** CHARLIE *****

* * *

I rapped my knuckles on the doorframe and grinned when she looked up, startled. Her hair was pulled back and I could see her face clearly.

"Hey, potion girl." I waited until she nodded before moving into the small room. This was her own private lab; she was picky about who she let in and I didn't want to push her to ban me.

"You were just here yesterday. I thought you weren't coming back until next week." She looked down at the cauldron in front of her, tapped the side twice then stirred the liquid four times. She flipped a small hourglass over then crossed her arms over her chest. "You've got six minutes."

"Or, I could stay longer. I'd love to watch you work."

Her bright green eyes narrowed at me and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you some kind of weird perv, Charlie Weasley?"

"Only for the potion girls." I laughed at her scowl. "I didn't go back to Romania last night. I stayed at Mum and Dad's; Mum's been harping on me to actually visit with them for longer than an hour once in a while. So, I thought since I had some time, I'd drop in here and see what my dragon scales are being used for before I returned."

"I've already explained several times what I've been doing with them."

"Yes, but you explaining and me _seeing_ are two different things." I leaned my hip on the bench. "And I know you're one of the best."

" _One_ of the best?" Pansy arched a menacing eyebrow.

"Well, Hermione has a thing for the Malfoy bloke, so she goes on about him a bit."

Pansy grinned. "Maybe, but I'm still way more talented than him."

"I'm certain you are," I agreed. "So, can I see what you're doing?"

She pursed her lips and stared at me for a few seconds before consenting to let me watch. "You need to put gloves on and a lab robe." She pointed to the neatly folded robes on the shelf near the door. "And you can't touch anything. This is something new and I don't know what will happen."

"An explosion, you mean?" I retrieved a robe and pulled it on, then picked up the gloves.

"Possibly, but since it's just a small batch, it shouldn't be too bad if it does explode."

"And here I was thinking my job was dangerous."

"Dragons are nothing compared with exploding cauldrons." She watched as the last few grains of sand trickled into the bottom of the hourglass and then lifted the small cauldron off the heat. She stirred it quickly, her lips moving as she counted the spoon rotations, then picked up her wand and whispered, _Glacius,_ freezing the potion instantly.

She immediately stepped back and I followed suit. We both held our breath, but nothing happened and I noticed her shoulders relaxing.

"It worked?" I asked.

"I think so."

She slowly stepped towards the bench and my protective instincts made me touch my hand to her arm, ready to pull her back if the cauldron so much as rattled. I saw her smile, the way I was behaving like a Neanderthal not bothering her in the least.

"It's fine, Charlie. It's frozen." She smiled brightly, clearly happy with the outcome.

"This is a good result, I'm assuming?"

She nodded. "A very good result. It's a good colour and it's frozen completely, which is what we need."

"I've never seen a frozen potion," I peeked into the cauldron; the pearlescent block of ice was shimmering under the bright laboratory lights.

"I don't think it will explode, but don't get too close." She gripped my shoulder, pulling me back. "It won't stay frozen; it'll thaw quickly and that's the second part. The instant freeze helps the scales bind to the Dittany, but if the colour returns to clear, it means the two have separated and it hasn't worked so I'll have to try again."

"It looks good to me." I shrugged and peered in again, unfazed by her warning. The frozen liquid had indeed begun to thaw, but it appeared the colour was remaining stable. "What's it for?"

"We're trialing a new healing potion. Well, an _assistive_ potion," she explained. "We've been working on adding the dragon scales to a basic Dittany potion. The idea came about from the fact that dragon scales are like armour and could possibly add to the healing process. We thought we could develop a higher strength potion, one which will heal and strengthen skin that has been damaged, say from a dragon flame or a cursed wound. Possibly even werewolf bites."

"It'll stop the werewolf process?"

"No, nothing will ever stop that, but the wounds from the bites are horrific and take forever to heal." She nodded at the scar on my arm. "As are dragon injuries. This should help the skin's natural healing ability and seal the wounds before they can become scars."

"Wow, that's amazing." I squeezed her shoulder. "You truly are brilliant."

"It's a team effort." She dropped her eyes to the cauldron, but I didn't miss the pink tinge on her cheeks or her smile.

"Are you busy on Friday night?"

She glanced quickly up at me, her eyes wide. "Excuse me?"

"I'll be back on Friday. Are you busy?"

"Are you asking me out?"

The look of surprise on her face caused a flicker of concern. Draco and Blaise had assured me she wanted this, but her response had me stumped.

"Yes," I answered. "I'm asking you to have dinner with me."

"But why?"

"I find you quite fascinating, Pansy. And I'd like to get to know you out of these laboratory robes."

Her eyes went wider and I cursed.

"Shit, that's not what I meant. I just meant I wanted to see you away from here."

"I don't know, Charlie. You live so far away and I won't leave here. I helped set up this company and I love it. I won't give it up."

"Pansy," I carefully reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. "I'm not asking anything more than dinner. I'm not sure why you'd think I'd ever ask you to give this up."

"You live in Romania. Dragons are your life, and if I say yes to dinner and this all works out, one of us will have to give up the thing we love."

"So, you've thought about this then?" I asked with a chuckle and her face glowed red. I took her other hand and lifted them both to my lips, kissing her fingers. "Pansy, I just want to have dinner with you. I want to talk to you and get to know you away from here. And if something does work out between us, then we'll deal with it."

"But how?" She was staring at her hands in mine and I could feel her pulse racing. "You live so far away. And I already hate only seeing you once a week. I don't think I could deal with it if we became something more"

My heart thumped in my chest; she _had_ been thinking about us. "I don't have to live at the Sanctuary. I can come and go as I please. There will be times when I do have to stay a few days at a time, but I know well in advance when that will be. Quite a lot of people who work there also live there, but there are more who don't. We come from all over the world and have families and loved ones who work and live elsewhere, so we're given a bit of special treatment from the Ministries across the world and Portkeys are available at any time. I can be here almost every night and leave again each morning if it comes to that."

"That's pretty presumptuous of you," she huffed, but her smile belied her snark. "I haven't even said yes to dinner yet."

" _Yet_?" I didn't want to sound too hopeful. "You're at least considering it then."

"Fine. I guess I'll have dinner with you," she huffed exasperatedly.

"Oh, well, thank you Ms Parkinson," I couldn't help but grin at her tiny smirk. She was happy that I'd asked; she was just trying to keep up the ice-maiden front she'd perfected. "I'm so pleased that you can spare the time."

"I have a few minutes I can give you."

I laughed and kissed her fingers again. "Friday night, if those minutes are available then?"

She nodded. "Lucky for you, those minutes are available on Friday night."

"Very lucky." I kissed her fingers once more and then reluctantly stepped away. "I'll see you on Friday, potion girl."

She nodded and I could feel her eyes on me as I left the lab. I couldn't stay any longer; I didn't trust myself. I wanted to kiss her. Wanted to lift her to the workbench and spread her thighs. Wanted to taste the very essence of her. Pansy Parkinson had pulled me under her spell and once I finally got my chance with her, I knew I would never be able to let her go.

* * *

"You were gone a few days this time," Roger Davies said as I approached the table he was sitting at. "I'm starting to suspect you've met a girl."

I laughed, sitting opposite him and starting the paperwork on the most recent dragon arrival. "The only girl I'm meeting with is Hermione — that's why I'm going back and forth so often. She looks sweet, but she's a tough businesswoman and expects me to deliver scales weekly. Plus, Mum insisted I stay longer this time."

But my explanation fell on deaf ears.

"Granger's with Malfoy, so you're not seeing her, and after what your dumbarse brother did, I'm surprised she even talks to anyone named Weasley." Roger tapped his chin with his finger, his Ravenclaw brain working overtime. "Abbott works with Granger, and I know Katie's there as well. But they're not your type."

"When did you become an expert in my type?"

"I see the women you talk to, they're not the Hannahs and the Katies of this world." He smirked at me and I felt a shot of adrenaline rush through me. "No, I'd say… Parkinson is the one who's got your dick stirring."

I shifted uncomfortably; how the fuck did he know?

"Parkinson?" I frowned as if trying to picture her. "Pansy Parkinson?"

"Charlie, don't even try to deny it." Roger started laughing. "You almost jizzed in your pants when I said her name. You've got it bad for her. Tell me what's happening."

"You want me to get some cosmopolitans and fluffy slippers? And we can do our nails while we talk." I rolled my eyes. This was a conversation I didn't want to have. Roger had become a firm friend, but I wasn't ready to talk about Pansy with him.

"Charlie, come on. I don't want all the details women would want, but lately when I see you, I can tell you're mad for… someone." He watched me glance around the communal dining area and shook his head. "I don't think anyone else knows, but since we work together every day, I know something's going on."

I scrubbed my hands over my face and wondered what I should tell him. Pansy had only just agreed to have dinner with me, so really there wasn't much to tell, but obviously he'd noticed a change in me. A change I hadn't even realised had occurred.

"Fine," I finally said. "But you can't say anything. Not yet."

"Of course not. I can see this girl is much more than just a quick fuck and I'm certain I'd be wearing my arse as a hat if I said anything."

"This is true," I agreed. "And you're right. It is Pansy. But nothing has happened yet. I asked her to dinner on Friday night and that'll be our first date."

"Are you hoping for more?"

"That's not your business."

"I didn't mean… Do you want this to go somewhere?" He held his hands up. "Are you willing to give all this up for her?"

"I don't have to. I can work here even if I don't live here. You know that."

He nodded, conceding my point. "But if you had to give it all up, would you?"

I glanced out the large windows overlooking the Sanctuary. The sky was clear and the mountains were visible for miles. It was lush and green at this time of year, and I loved this place more than anywhere else I'd ever been. I looked back at Roger who was smirking at me as if knowing already what my answer was.

"I'd give it up for her." And I knew without a doubt I would.

"So, she's definitely someone important then."

"She is." I paused and shot him a nervous smile. "At least I hope she is"

"Don't fuck it up and she will be." He tapped the table in front of me. "I made that mistake and your brother benefited from it."

I laughed. Roger had accompanied Fleur to the Yule Ball all those years ago and, as he told me on several occasions, he never should have let her go. He was still annoyed Bill had managed to win her over, but I didn't have the heart to tell him that I didn't think Fleur even gave him a thought after the Tri-Wizard Tournament was over.

"I'll do my best," I told him. "Besides, we might not have anything to talk about outside the lab. Dinner might be a complete disaster."

"I doubt that. From what I remember about Pansy Parkinson, I don't think your evening will be dull."

* * *

***** PANSY *****

* * *

I stood in my closet, staring at the two outfits hanging in front of me. Charlie had told me he wasn't taking me anywhere fancy, just a casual date to get to know each other. But, of course, every piece of clothing I owned had been scrutinised and tossed aside until I'd finally narrowed it to these two. It was ridiculous. I'd never had this much trouble getting ready for a date. But Charlie was different. He was all tough and rugged and rough around the edges, but on the inside he was manners and proprietary. And I already knew he had a gentle soul.

Like Ginny, he'd disowned his brother. His opinion on what Ronald had done angered him to boiling point. Real men didn't cheat on the woman they loved, he had told me in disgust, and the comment made me swoon.

And Pansy Parkinson _didn't_ swoon.

Pansy Parkinson never _used_ to swoon.

I blamed Charlie completely. He'd made me weak with need, made me want to fall to my knees every time I saw him. Made me want to do dirty things with him. _Very_ dirty things.

Biting my lip, I smiled at the thought, and took in my outfit choices once more. The first was a simple skirt and blouse combo, and it was looking more and more like my regular workday clothes the longer I stood in front of it. The other was a pair of dark skinny jeans and a loose-fitting, sleeveless white top with a scandalously low neckline. I could pair it with my white strappy heels and the tear-drop diamond necklace that rested just at the top of my cleavage. It would be flirty and teasing, and draw Charlie's eyes down.

My choice was obvious.

I slipped off my bathrobe; the white lace underwear I had chosen was simple but pretty. I had no clues what Charlie's beliefs were regarding first dates, but if this date went well and something were to happen after, I didn't want to look like I'd anticipated it. But I also didn't want to wear laundry day underwear either.

I dressed quickly, banishing the unchosen outfit to the work clothes side of my closet, shaking my head for even considering it in the first place. I'd become so accustomed to my work clothes, I'd chosen them automatically.

At the last minute, I'd decided to keep my makeup simple and leave my hair down. My hair was nothing compared with Granger's mad curls, but the natural wave was just enough to give the impression I hadn't put much effort in.

Glancing in the mirror, I allowed myself a smile. I hadn't always liked myself, but now I was completely comfortable in my own skin. Pureblood females weren't supposed to be tenacious, and they certainly weren't supposed to have their own opinions. Most of us did, of course, but we learned to hide it from an early age. My mother, however, was one of the women who lived exactly as she was supposed to. She did everything my father wanted. Her entire life became about him and she completely lost her sense of self — if she ever had it to begin with. She was bred from a long line of purists who lived that life to the letter. And she attempted to mould me in that image.

She failed miserably.

It was my grandmother, my father's mother, who taught me to be strong, to never hold back, to never let a man dictate my life. She'd often said how she'd raised my father to think the same, but upon marrying my mother, he changed. He had a woman who was demure and quiet and did exactly as he wished. _He might as well have married a house elf,_ my grandmother had said, and I had wholeheartedly agreed.

Touching the diamond on my chest, I smiled at the thought of my grandmother. It had been hers, and the uproar in the family when it had been bequeathed to me had been ferocious. It was valuable, _very_ valuable, and apparently I was not to be trusted with it. However I knew it was more about its value than who actually had it. They all wanted it to sell, not to keep. Some of their fortunes had been greatly diminished over the course of the war — their loyalty had come at a great cost. The Dark Lord had to rebuild his own fortune, and his loyal followers were expected to donate. The money in his vault had been frozen by the Ministry, and those who had contributed never stood a chance of reclaiming their contributions.

A diamond worth hundreds of thousands of Galleons, however, would be of great benefit to those depleted vaults.

But my grandmother had been far from stupid, and had magically ensured that I was the only one who could claim ownership of it. She also encouraged me to wear it. It wasn't something to be hidden and protected. It was to be enjoyed.

And to be passed onto my own daughter one day.

My smile slipped; I never planned on having children. This diamond would be buried with me when I died.

Children.

A daughter.

Charlie came from a huge family. Was that something he would expect if we became something? He said he wouldn't expect me to give up my job — and I wouldn't — but children and family were a different matter. Especially knowing the Weasleys.

_Stop_ , I scolded myself. It wouldn't be constructive to start anything with him while I was terrified of what I assumed he would want.

A knock on the door brought my smile back. He was here, and even though I'd allowed him access to my Floo, he'd gone old-school and was at the door.

Grabbing my clutch, I headed down the stairs, trying to rid myself of the giddy grin that had taken over my face.

I opened the door, and my smile grew even more giddy. He was smiling at me, his eyes sparkling with delight.

"Hi," he greeted and held out three gorgeous orange-yellow lilies.

"Hi," I answered and accepted the flowers, and then took a moment to look at him; dark grey t-shirt, worn black jeans with a rip in the knee. Sunglasses folded into the neck of his t-shirt. He looked like a sweet treat, ready to be devoured.

"Peruvian lilies," he explained. "I couldn't bring you a Vipertooth, so I had to settle for these."

I laughed and conjured up a vase with water. "Thank you, they're gorgeous."

I lifted the three blooms to my nose before placing them in the vase and setting it on the hall table. The scent was strong, but not unpleasant, and until they wilted, they would remind me of Charlie Weasley looking like a god outside my door.

"You look incredible," he said, giving me the once over.

"An improvement on the lab robes?"

"I'll say," he chuckled and held out his hand.

I took it and pulled the door closed behind me, the wards I had set locking it safely.

"Where are we headed?" I asked and he squeezed my hand.

"A favourite place of mine."

We stepped off the stoop and he pulled me close, his eyes flicking to my mouth. My heart skipped a beat thinking he was going to kiss me, but instead he just smiled.

"Ready?"

I nodded, and with a wink, he Apparated us away.


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

***** CHARLIE *****

* * *

"Muggle London?" Pansy asked when we reappeared in a hidden alley.

"Muggle London," I confirmed and slid my fingers through hers to hold her hand tighter, not wanting to let her go.

"Are you scared I'll have a panic attack?" she asked, looking down at our hands. "Because I actually like Muggle London."

"No, but you don't know where we're going." I tugged teasingly on her hand. "And I don't want to lose you."

"Hmm..." She winked at me. "So chivalrous."

"It's a lost art," I said and began the short walk towards the cafe I loved. I assumed she would protest my holding her hand, but she surprised me, walking comfortably beside me.

When she'd opened the door, I'd had to think of very cold things to calm myself down. She was a vision, and when she turned to place the flowers in the vase, the sight of her arse in those tight jeans was almost too much.

It wasn't very gentlemanly of me to look, but I couldn't help myself. The protective robes she constantly wore at MZP hid so much more than I could have imagined.

I chanced a look at her. Her green eyes were sparkling, and I'd finally gotten to see her hair out of the professional up-dos and ponytails she always wore. It was long and fell across her shoulders in dark waves.

But the vision I had of wrapping it around my fist and fucking her over the side of her lab table had me looking away quickly.

"What?" she asked.

I shook my head. "Nothing."

"You're thinking something dirty, aren't you?" she laughed.

"No," I mumbled.

"Tell me."

"It's nothing," I lied. "I was just thinking how good you look out of those unflattering robes."

"Nice try." She bumped me with her shoulder. "You already told me that. Were you thinking about what's under my regular clothes?"

The Pansy Parkinson I had been told about had apparently turned up tonight; sassy, flirty, teasing — the woman I had been looking forward to meeting. But she'd caught me out and clearly knew exactly what I was thinking.

"A gentleman would never think something so crass."

She laughed again. "I've heard stories about you, Charlie Weasley, and I don't think _gentleman_ was ever mentioned."

"What stories?" I was suddenly concerned. She was friends with Ginny, and who knew what my baby sister would tell her about me.

"Oh, just that line of bints you denied having," she said with a shrug. "Apparently there was a new one each week."

"My sister has a tendency to over exaggerate everything," I said, squeezing her hand and stopping outside the small cafe. "Ginny was probably just trying to make you jealous. We're here."

She stopped and looked up, taking in the exterior of the building. "Did you take the bints here?"

"There was _not_ a line of bints," I reiterated. "Maybe a bit when I was younger, but not recently. And, if there were, I wouldn't have taken them here."

"What is this place?" Pansy asked, glancing at it nervously. "It looks very…"

Her words trailed off, so I finished her statement. "Casual? Plain? Not up to your standards, potion girl?"

"No, I was going to say it looks better than the pretentious fucking places that most men assume I'd like for a first date," she replied, shocking me. "I just want to know if everyone in there is going to look at me like I'm the latest in your line."

I rolled my eyes. "You _are_ jealous."

Slapping my arm, she hissed, "I am _not_ jealous."

With a smile, I took her free hand. "It's okay, Pansy. I like that you're jealous — it means that you like me."

Again, she hit my arm, this time with the clutch she was carrying. "I wouldn't be out with you if I didn't like you. Don't act dense."

As I opened the door to the cafe, I said, "I'm just a simple dragon tamer." Dropping her hand, I settled my palm against her lower back to guide her in. "Maybe I've been hit over the head a few times."

She narrowed her eyes. "Are head injuries common in your line of work? Should I be developing some sort of concussion restorative potion?"

"Probably not a bad idea," I teased. "I mean, dragons don't really care where they hit you."

"Hey, Charlie," Mrs Whittaker, the owner of the cafe, greeted. "It's nice to see you again. Your dad was in for lunch yesterday."

"He told me," I answered, smiling at her. "It's nice to be home. You know I couldn't resist coming by while I was in town."

She glanced over at Pansy. "And who's this gorgeous young lady?"

"Pansy Parkinson," she said, extending her hand and introducing herself like it was a business meeting rather than a casual dinner in a cafe. "I'm a friend of Charlie's."

"With an outfit like that, I doubt you're just a friend," Mrs Whittaker replied, winking. "But it's nice to see that he does have friends. I was beginning to think he might be alone forever."

When I looked over at Pansy, I could see her cheeks were a little bit more pink than they had been earlier. She didn't say anything, so I redirected the conversation. I didn't want her to stop talking again.

"So, we're going to have a couple drinks and dinner. Do you have any tables that are a bit on the quiet side?"

"I have just the place. Follow me."

And so we did, ending up at a table in a small alcove on the side of the room. There was a solitary candle in a frosted glass holder on top of the table.

Mrs Whittaker handed Pansy a menu and looked over at me. "Are you just going to have the usual or would you like a menu, too?"

"I know what I want," I said, and it had a double meaning.

Pansy squirmed, and I knew her brain had gone exactly where I wanted it to.

"Okay. I'll send someone over in a few. Enjoy your night, Charlie."

Refocusing on my favourite potion girl, I noticed a rather extravagant gemstone — perhaps a real diamond — nestled against her chest, drawing my attention to her cleavage. I knew I was looking longer than I should have allowed myself, but the necklace was gorgeous and her tits…

Well, they were gorgeous too, and now I was thinking about wrapping her hair around my fist while she straddled me, both of us sitting upright.

Clearing her throat, she snapped me out of my hazy daydream.

"My eyes are up here." She pointed to her face, but I didn't miss her smile. She'd intended for me to look my fill, and I loved that. "So, what do you normally eat here?"

"I have a few things I alternate between, depending on my mood," I told her, even though I was still thinking about what her tits would taste like in the imagined scenario. "What do you normally like to eat?"

Before she could answer, a waiter approached us, bringing me my customary beer. He looked to Pansy. "What can I bring you tonight, miss?"

"Wine. Your best white, please."

"White wine?" I asked. "I would've thought red."

She gestured to the low neckline of her shirt, drawing my eyes again. "I don't want to stain this top and I can't just whip my wand out here if I spill any."

"Tell me about that rock around your neck, potion girl," I said, my eyes drifting back down to the diamond. "Family heirloom?"

"It is, but that story — it's not for a first date." Tucking her hair behind her ears, she continued. "It was my grandmother's — my father's mother's — and it's very special to me."

"Well, it suits you. It's glamorous and full of fire and just a little bit too much." When she looked perplexed, I tossed her a wink. "It's a good thing, Pansy."

Biting her lower lip, I saw her eyes move to my arms, taking in the scars I'd accumulated over the years. The various burns and bites and claw marks made my job look far more dangerous than it actually was. She reached out and touched the largest one — the burn she'd noticed in the lab.

"Well, you clearly have no issues playing with fire," she teased, raising one of her perfect eyebrows at me.

"Oh, I love playing with fire." I shifted in my chair, leaning a bit closer. Subconsciously, she did too. "In fact, you might even say it's my favourite thing to do—"

Before I could continue the innuendo, the waiter came back and set Pansy's glass in front of her, making us both lean back. He poured the wine and asked if we were ready to order.

"Um, not quite yet," Pansy replied, giving him a warm smile. "I'm sorry. I haven't even had a chance to look at my menu. We were—"

"Nothing to worry about. Just wave me over when you're ready," he said, smirking in a way that said he knew what we'd been up to.

While Pansy's eyes dropped to the menu, my eyes dropped back to the diamond sitting right where I wanted to put my mouth. Her skin was golden and didn't look to have a single flaw, not even a tiny freckle. She'd possibly enhanced herself with some kind of beautification potion, but I doubted it. She was a natural beauty; nothing about her was fake.

She was gorgeous. Beautiful beyond belief. And while she'd hidden her true self from me at first, I had begun to see the real woman she was in the last few weeks. But I wanted to know more, wanted her to open up and tell me everything about her.

"Charlie?"

"Hmm?" I murmured and slowly raised my eyes to hers.

Her head was tilted to one side, her green eyes were sparkling and she was smiling at me. "Are my tits that distracting?"

"Sorry, they really are," I admitted. "But, if it's making you uncomfortable, I'll stop ogling you."

"Honestly, it's fine. You're not being creepy about it, you're just being a guy." She waved the waiter over and we both told him what we wanted. "Besides, I'd hex your balls off if you were a creep."

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat making her laugh.

"But, I guess if I did that, I wouldn't see what's under your robes."

I almost choked on my beer. "Excuse me?"

"You've been wondering what's under my robes?" She leaned forward with her elbows on the table. "Well, I've been wondering what's under yours."

I glanced down at myself and replied dumbly, "I don't wear robes."

"No, you don't." She winked and shot me a wicked smile. "How did your mother raise you to this chivalrous gentleman, but also raised your douche of a brother?"

I held up both my hands, "Wait, what?"

"Molly Weasley. Your mum. I'm pretty sure you know her."

"No." I shook my head. "You were saying you wanted to see me naked, now you're asking about my mother?"

"Yes."

"Is this what you're always like?"

"Mostly." She shrugged. "So how _are_ you and your brother so different?"

"I don't know," I answered. "He's always had a bit of a temper, and maybe fame went to his head. I mean, any attention in a family as big as ours is welcome, so if some trashy piece of arse comes at him, I guess he'll take it."

"Are you justifying what he did?"

"No, not at all. But you asked how we're different. And that's how." I leaned back on my chair. "I don't have a temper, and I don't want fame. And, if I'm with a woman, I'm _with_ her. I don't look anywhere else."

"Except at her tits."

"Except at her tits," I snorted. "What about your mother?"

"I never looked at her chest."

"I would hope not. But since you know all about my family already, what about yours?"

"My mother was…" She shook her head. "Your Mum isn't like most pureblood women, not the one I was raised by anyway. My mother was the perfect example of old-school purist etiquette. Demure and proper. She stood behind my father and never once disagreed with him. Everything our world assumes about purists… that's her."

"And how is it that you're not like her?"

She fingered the diamond on her chest. "My grandmother. She was a pureblood, but not a purist, and nothing like the women around her." She huffed a small laugh. "She was very much like your mum."

"Stubborn and loud?"

"No," she laughed. "Strong and confident. And she saw women as being equal to men."

"Well, I'm glad she's the one who influenced you."

"Her and Narcissa."

"Narcissa? As in _Malfoy_?" I tried to hold my surprise in check, but failed.

"Yes, Narcissa Malfoy. She took me under her wing when I was a teenager and told me the same things my grandmother did." Her eyes spoke volumes about the respect she had for them both. "She's not the bitch everyone thinks she is."

I reached across the table and took her hand. "What she did for Harry is enough for me to understand that. And if she's important to you, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks of her."

"Good, because she's in my life, and she's another thing I won't ever give up."

"Pansy, whatever this thing is that's happening between us, I would never ask you to give up anything for me."

She tilted her head thoughtfully. "We're both purebloods, Charlie, but I was raised so differently than you. Most of the men in my world expected women to comply, no matter how strong their magic. A few didn't — Bellatrix and Narcissa… Andromeda." She shrugged. "And some others. But mostly we weren't considered their equals, so it's hard for me to believe that I'm not expected to just give up everything I've worked for because a man thinks he's staked a claim on me."

"And I get that, but here's the thing: I haven't staked any claim on you, and I don't intend to. You are not property, Pansy. You're intelligent and independent, and I don't want to change that." I ran my thumb over the back of her hand. "I just want to know you, that's all."

"Molly raised you right," she said and squeezed my hand. "My grandmother would approve."

I flicked my eyes to the diamond once more. "She's special, your grandma."

Pansy nodded, but stuck to her already laid-out moratorium of her grandmother's story not being a first date story.

"Why potions?" I asked, changing the conversation to something she might be more comfortable with.

"I like the challenge," she answered. "I love the complexity and precision, but I also love that I can change things, can experiment and manipulate the old ways and make something new."

"From what I've seen, you're achieving all you set out to do. I mean, that advanced healing potion will be a huge help to Healers. And the contraceptive potion… well, I'm happy to be the poster boy."

"You don't want to get one of your bints pregnant?"

"Funny," I deadpanned. "No. I don't want a house full of kids. I grew up like that. And while I love my family, there was no space or privacy. I like quiet and order, and I didn't have that at The Burrow."

"Is that why you moved so far away?"

"It's part of it. I always wanted to work with dragons, and Romania's Sanctuary is the best, so it was the obvious choice."

"I can't imagine it being very quiet and orderly though."

"No, sometimes it isn't. But at the end of the day I have my own quarters which _are_ quiet and orderly."

"A sanctuary within a sanctuary?"

"Exactly."

Her cheeks tinged pink and her eyes dropped away. "Wouldn't I just be a disruption to that?"

"The best kind," I assured her.

"But you've seen my lab…"

"Yes, but I know that's not who you are."

"How so?"

"Your lab might be a mess, but you certainly aren't." I paused when our food arrived, thanking the waiter and ordering more drinks. "You're immaculate every time I see you. Completely put together and nothing out of place, so I can't imagine your home would be any different."

"Charming _and_ smart. Whatever will I do with you, Charlie Weasley?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" I challenged playfully.

"You've been staring at my chest half the night already. I can imagine what you want me to do."

"And exactly what are you imagining?"

She took a bite of her food and nodded pointedly towards my plate.

"Oh, right. You want me to eat… something."

She held her hand to her mouth, coughing as she choked.

"Sorry," I laughed and poured her some water. "But it was what you meant, right?"

"It was." She coughed again. "You definitely need to eat… your dinner."

"I definitely do," I agreed. "I'm sure it's tasty."

"You've eaten here before, and apparently that's your usual, so I'm sure you know what it tastes like."

"You're right," I winked at her. "But maybe I'm ready to taste something new."

* * *

***** PANSY *****

* * *

I felt the weight of the moment as we approached my door. Dinner had been amazing; funny, flirty, filled with innuendo. But now I wasn't sure how it was going to end… or if it was going to end.

Would he simply bid me good night, or would he kiss me? Should I ask him in? I definitely wanted to, but I wasn't sure he would want me to. Other than the distraction of my chest, he had been a perfect gentleman all night. His mother had raised him well.

"What's happening inside your head, potion girl?" he asked when we stopped on the steps. "You've gone very quiet."

I looked up at him and found him smirking at me. He'd been thinking Merlin knew what all night, and apparently now it was my turn. And I decided honesty was my best option.

"I was just wondering if you would kiss me goodnight."

He moved closer and curled my hair behind my ear. "Did you want me to kiss you goodnight?"

My ridiculous giddy grin returned. "I think I do."

"You think?" He looked amused.

"You've been quite the gentleman tonight, Charlie. And while I appreciate that, I really want to know what you've been thinking all night."

"Well, what I've been wondering—" he brushed his thumb over my lips "—is what your skin might taste like. What your lips would feel like against mine."

I slid my arms around his waist and smiled up at him. "They'd feel perfect, I'd imagine."

"Hmm," he hummed. "I'm curious as to just how perfect."

I laughed. "Just kiss me, you dense arse."

He leaned down and I closed my eyes, feeling his breath a tease over my face as he exhaled. I heard the click in his throat as he swallowed, then the gentle press of his lips when he finally kissed me.

This first kiss was so gentle, so sweet, just a slide of his lips over mine, as if he was wanting to savour this first intimate moment. And it was perfect. The feel of his body pressed against mine. The warmth of his skin through his t-shirt. The touch of his hands as they cupped my face. This man was so different than any other who had come before him.

The casualness of this first date had already been so far beyond anything I had expected. I had assumed — wrongly — that he would have tried to impress me with fancy food and expensive cocktails. Instead he had taken me somewhere comfortable and warm, with simple food, beer, and wine. And the way he had looked at me all night — like I was the only thing that he cared about — was something I was unaccustomed to.

He had impressed me simply by being himself.

He kissed me several times, carefully, slowly, taking his time. But when I opened my mouth to suck on his bottom lip, he groaned and slipped his tongue between my lips.

I'd been so stupid holding back from this man. I could have been enjoying him weeks ago if not for my own reticence. He was everything everyone had told me and more.

I pulled back and studied his face, his eyes, his lips, his jaw. He was so beautiful, and I wanted him in my life every day.

"Are you coming inside?" I asked.

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes, very much so."

"Well, I'd hate to disappoint you then."

"Good," I said and pressed my hand against the door, feeling the ward recognise me and release the lock. "Because I'm not nearly done with you."

Just inside the door, Charlie pressed me against the wall, his hands twisting into my hair. "Tell me what you want," he said, his lips grazing my jaw. "Now that you've got me in your house, tell me everything you want me to do."

"I want you over me… behind me… I want your face between my legs." I gripped the short hair at the back of his head and pulled him back to look at me. "I want you to do every filthy thing you thought about tonight."

"Potion girl..." Charlie groaned. "Where's your bed? Because if you don't take us there right now, I'll do all that, and more, right here on the floor."

We were in my bedroom in a heartbeat, and this time I pushed him against the wall. I curled my fingers into his t-shirt and stood up on my toes to kiss his mouth. He widened his stance and gripped my hips, pulling me into him. He was hard, pressing into my stomach, and I wondered if he'd been like that all night.

I opened his belt and unfastened his jeans. He pulled away from my mouth and groaned.

"Fucking hell, Pansy! Slow down."

I kissed the hollow at the base of his throat and told him, _no_.

Dropping to my knees, I dragged his jeans and boxers down his hips, smiling at the sight before me. Charlie Weasley had been hiding a dragon of his own.

I glanced up at him; he was watching me closely, his eyes dark and a little dangerous. I darted my tongue out to taste him, catching a bead of moisture as it dripped down. My heart began hammering in my chest at the sound of his groan and the surge of adrenaline that raced through me made me feel empowered. I was on my knees in front of him, but he was totally at my mercy.

When I slid my lips over the tip of him, his hands curled into my hair. I glanced up and he was watching me — watching me take more and more of him into my mouth, watching me swallow him, watching me take him into the back of my throat.

"So good," Charlie whispered, and I had to wonder just how many times he'd imagined this.

Gripping his hips, I began to move over him, his length heavy and full in my mouth. I kept my movements slow; long pulls back before taking him in again, his hands in my hair, guiding me. My tongue teased the sensitive spot just beneath the head and I was rewarded with another low growl.

I took him deeper into my mouth, holding him against my throat until my eyes watered and I pulled away with a gasp.

"Okay?" he asked, swallowing thickly.

"Yeah," I nodded and bit my bottom lip. "How long has it been since you came in a woman's mouth?"

His jaw dropped open and only a garbled sound came out.

"That long, huh?"

I opened my mouth to take him in once more, but he tugged gently on my hair, pulling me off him.

"You have to stop." His breath was ragged. "As much as I want you to continue, I don't want… not this first time."

"Are you sure?"

Wrapping his hand around his length, he touched the head to my lips. "Next time, potion girl. Next time you can suck me dry."

He pulled back and helped me to my feet. I kicked my heels off and began moving slowly backwards towards the bed. Pulling my top over my head, I dropped it to the floor and watched as he did the same. I lowered my jeans and kicked them away, grinning as he once more mirrored my movements.

Charlie moved towards me, completely naked, and reached behind me, but I stopped him. He raised an eyebrow in question, but his expression softened in understanding when I unfastened the clasp and let my bra slide down my arms.

I wanted to show him, to reveal myself to him, to let him see what he had been fantasising about.

"Perfect," he murmured as I removed my knickers and stood naked before him. "Absolutely perfect."

I licked my lips and took a breath. Turning my back to him, I heard his gasp.

"I was thrown into a wall in the final battle at Hogwarts," I said quietly. "And unfortunately that wall had several flaming torches on it and... well, you can see..."

He touched the scar on my back and I closed my eyes. His fingers were gentle, tracing along the jagged line of damaged skin that ran from my shoulder to the middle of my back. "Is this why you're working so hard on the healing potion?"

"It's part of it," I answered. "I'm sorry I'm not perfect."

He turned me around to face him. "You _are_ perfect. If anyone got through that day without one or two scars, they were probably hiding, not fighting."

I gave him a small smile and he kissed my forehead.

"I don't care which side you were on back then, Pansy. You have more than redeemed yourself. You work hard to help others, and you have a huge heart. You don't think anyone sees it, but we do." He kissed me sweetly and smiled. "And I don't care about the scars, they just make me like you even more."

I wrapped my arms around him and kissed his chest. "You might be a little too charming, Charlie Weasley."

"And yet I've charmed your pants off, Pansy Parkinson." He lifted me from the floor and we landed on the bed. "And I'm so glad to see you out of those lab robes."

I shifted beneath him. "I'm glad you like what you're seeing."

Lifting off me, his eyes roamed over my chest. "What's not to like?" His hand covered my breast. "You feel like heaven—" he bent his head and licked my nipple "—and you taste like sin."

Scratching my nails across his scalp, I let out a slow sigh. His mouth felt incredible; teeth and lips and tongue, sucking, biting, tasting. My body hummed and my pulse began hammering in my neck. He was heavy on top of me, warm and solid, comforting, like he was made for me. I had no idea what that meant, or why the idea was even in my head. And while it was too soon to define anything, everything about him just felt right.

He touched the diamond at my throat. "Did you wear this to make me look?"

"Maybe."

"Well, it worked." He lowered his head back down and murmured into the space between my breasts. "I wanted to do this the second you opened that door."

"I wanted your face somewhere else, but it's a start."

He glanced up at me, smirking wickedly. "And exactly where would that be?"

"I already told you."

He kissed along my collarbone and he'd his lips over my pulse, feeling the rapid thump of blood in my veins.

"Was it here?"

"Hmm, I think I said a bit lower."

He kissed the curve of my breast. "Here?"

"No… _lower_."

He chuckled into my skin and moved further down my body, pressing kisses over my ribs.

I pushed at his head. "Charlie… _please_."

He grazed his teeth across my navel, dipping his tongue into my belly button. "I dreamed of how you'd taste, potion girl. I dreamed of my tongue on your perfect, wet skin. Dreamed of eating your sweet cunt until you scream."

I sucked in a breath and he smirked up at me.

"What?"

"Guys don't say what they're—" I moaned loud enough to wake my neighbours when he lowered his head and pressed a sucking kiss to my clit.

"This guy will tell you everything." His nose prodded me, inhaling deeply. "I'll suck on your clit and lick you inside and out."

_Sweet fucking Circe._

Tangling my hands in his hair, I guided him to exactly where I wanted him. My legs instinctively fell wider and I moaned when his hands teased me even further apart. One finger, then two, grazed my entrance while his mouth kissed and nipped at the inside of my thigh. No one — _no one_ — had played my body like he was; the heat inside me was already climbing and he was just getting started.

As his fingers eased inside me, his lips surrounded me, kissing and licking in time with his thrusting fingers. The feel of his mouth was exquisite, his licks slow and firm. I gasped at the pressure of his tongue, gasped again and pulled at his hair when a deep growl sounded from the back of his throat.

"You taste like sugar," he groaned and buried his face between my thighs again.

His tongue moved over me faster, his fingers thrust harder. My body arched and bowed off the bed, my cry loud, my gasps heavy. I shivered and shook. Nonsensical words began to spill from my mouth. Encouraging words. Begging words. Praise to the gods for giving me this man.

Then his tongue pressed down hard and his fingers curled.

" _Fuuuuccckkk_ ," I wailed, my eyes closing against the pressure building behind my navel.

"There's my potion girl," he murmured and sucked harder on my clit.

Every muscle in my body tensed and my eyes shot open. I lifted my head to gaze down at him, to watch his mouth on me, to watch the way his eyes looked at me. And those eyes were even more dangerous; he seemed to know I was about to explode.

"Give it to me," he demanded and bit down on my clit.

I cried out, bucking and twisting, and I came so hard my toes curled and my entire body shook.

His mouth slowed and he slowly withdrew his fingers from my body. I loosened my grip on his hair and scratched my nails along his shoulders.

"Hmm, just as I suspected." Charlie turned his face into my thigh and sucked a bruise into my skin. "You're delicious when you come, potion girl."

I smiled at him, watching as his tongue licked my orgasm from his lips. The thought of what I would taste like on those lips had me biting down on my own.

"What are you thinking?"

"Nothing, just... nothing."

He glanced down to where my thighs were still parted and ran his thumb across my drenched skin. He lifted it to his lips and sucked more of me into his mouth. "Are you wondering what you taste like?"

"No," I answered. "I'm wondering what I taste like on your lips."

"Delicious," he said and touched his thumb to me again. "Sweet and spicy... and a little bit fiery."

Charlie moved over me, bending down to kiss me and allow me to taste myself on him. His hands slid into my hair and I sighed into his mouth; I was delicious on his lips. I moaned, feeling the length of his body pressing into mine as I lifted my hips to feel more of him. He settled between my thighs, his cock — his thick and long and full cock — was pressed against my clit and the heat that had subsided began to build once more.

"Charlie," I groaned as our kiss broke and he shifted forward, my slick skin allowing him to slide easily across my sensitive core.

"What do you want?" He caressed my cheek and sucked kisses along my jaw. "Tell me."

"You," I gasped. "Inside…"

I shoved my hand between us, gripping the solid length of him. He was heavy in my fist, hard and long, and I had a flash of thought that he might hurt me.

"Go slow, okay?" I said, raising my hips and feeling him as he pressed himself against me.

"Lift your legs a little," he murmured, and I slid my legs along his sides. "Yeah, just like that."

He lifted his head and our eyes met as he sank into me. Slow. Solid. Thick.

"Pansy… _fuck_!" he cursed as I gripped his hips, barely able to comprehend what was happening.

I was stretched around him, muscles tight and squeezing his pulsating length. His glacier-blue eyes — less dangerous but still intense — stared down at me. I was filled with him, and it wasn't just his cock inside me. Every nerve, every cell, every fibre of my being felt him. The sweet burn between my thighs. The heat of his skin on mine. The muscles in his back, the rough scars on his arms. His tongue pressing against mine as our mouths met.

"It's good?" he asked quietly when he pulled back from my mouth.

"Yeah," I breathed. "So good, Charlie."

Pulling back, he began to move slowly. I gasped at the sensation; he was so big, and the friction where our bodies were joined was like a spark of lightning, spreading and growing, branching out through every nerve in my body. He groaned as I arched my back, pressing my chest into him and lifting my hips in time with his. He thrust forward as I rocked up into him, my body becoming wetter, his becoming harder.

"This is… fucking hell, you feel so fucking good." He ground into me, his pelvis pressing hard against mine. "Your cunt is perfect. So hot and wet—" he grunted as he surged forward "—tight."

My body shook as he picked up his pace, sliding through me with a practised ease. I'd forgotten how it felt to have a man over me. It had been so long. And this man...

His quiet grunts and exhales were mixed with fragmented words; _Potion girl... Soaked… Fucking... Soft... Perfect..._ His eyes studied me closely, roaming my face and chest, watching my breasts move with every thrust of his hips. His hands touched me everywhere, the rough calluses adding to the pleasure that was already coursing through me.

"You're so fucking slippery." He bent his head down so our foreheads touched. "I'm going to live with my cock inside you."

"Charlie," I breathed and I knew; I had fallen. Fallen for him. I was drowning under his spell, completely lost in his words

I squeezed my legs harder against his ribs, felt my body tighten around him, and gave in to the spiral cascading down my spine. My orgasm consumed me, pulling every muscle tight, before bursting through me.

"Nothing on this earth is more fucking perfect than your face when you come," he whispered and then began to pull out of my body.

"Charlie, no!" I panicked, clutching at him. "…not finished!"

"It's okay, potion girl." He lifted me like I weighed nothing and positioned me on my hands and knees. "I've got you."

His fingertips brushed up the backs of my thighs and over my arse, to grip my hips and pull me to exactly where he wanted me. My pulse was hammering, my body humming with the impatient ache clawing to have him back inside me. I was so wet, dripping onto his fingers as he touched me, and I groaned in frustration.

"Be patient." He leaned over me, one hand curving around my breast. "I'm about to give us both what we want."

I felt the tip of his cock press against me as he positioned himself behind me. He slid just inside me and my body clenched around him, wanting more.

"Charlie," I groaned, trying to push back into him but his hands held me in place.

He kissed the space between my shoulder blades and asked, "Are you ready?"

"Yes!" I almost shouted and then cried out as he lifted me, pulling my back against his chest, and thrusting up hard, setting a brutal pace.

I reached my hand back into Charlie's hair as his mouth landed on my neck. I'd never been fucked so perfectly. Every other man I'd been with had to be told what I liked, but Charlie needed no instruction. His hands touching me, his mouth tasting me, and now with my back pressed tightly against his chest while he pounded into me, I was barely able to think straight.

His hand moved down my body, his fingers touching the place where he slid in and out of me, his thumb landing on my clit. I groaned and almost fell forward but his strong arm pinned me to him.

"Is that what you like?" His voice was just a whisper against my ear. "Do you like to be touched and fucked at the same time?"

"Yes," I gasped, my body reacting to every movement of his fingers.

"Do you like me fucking you like this? Do you like me behind you? Do you like that you can't see me, that you can only feel?" He thrust up hard and stilled inside me. "Do you like all of me inside you?"

I'd never had a man talk to me during sex like Charlie had been. His voice had an edge that was both dangerous and calming, and made me shiver.

"Say it. Say you love me inside you."

I groaned in response, not capable of forming words with him moving inside me.

"Answer me, Pansy." He stilled again and I choked out a cry. "Answer me or I'll stop fucking you and make you watch me get myself off."

"Yes... I love you…" My words were little more than a gasp. Quickly, I added. "Inside me. I love you inside me."

He froze. "Potion Girl?"

"Don't stop… Charlie… please…"

But he did stop. He slowly pulled out of me and turned me to face him. "Potion Girl… what did you just say?"

I was in a daze, not understanding why he'd stopped. "Charlie, I don't know what—"

"You love me?"

I balked. _Where the hell had that come from?_

"Pansy… you just said… I love you."

I shook my head, my mind finally clearing now he wasn't inside me. He hadn't heard my gasped words clearly. "No. I didn't say that. I love you _inside_ _me_. Like you wanted me to."

He stared at me. His usual easy smile, the roughness, the edge, had all disappeared. Disappointment now clouded his eyes; the heat of just moments ago had cooled considerably.

"Charlie?"

"I thought you meant…" He closed his eyes and my heart squeezed.

I shifted closer, stretching up from my kneeling position to touch his face. "I like being with you and I miss you when you're not around. I'm not quite _there_ , Charlie, but I know I will be."

He leaned into my touch, opening his eyes and smiling. "I'm already there, potion girl. I knew I loved you the second I first saw you."

"Charlie…"

"It's okay. I'll wait for you."

I climbed over his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my chest to his. I licked my lips and his eyes flashed; the desire that had cooled came rushing back. He reached between us, placing his cock at my entrance, and I slid down his entire length, my eyes never leaving his.

His hands curved around my hips as I began to slowly ride him. Kissing along his shoulder, I rocked my hips, feeling every inch of him moving in me. And every inch felt incredible.

"You feel so good, Charlie…"

Scraping my fingernails lightly across his back, I was gifted with a groan of pure ecstasy.

"I've imagined those long nails leaving their mark on me," he purred into my ear. "And I like it rough."

"How rough?" I whispered into his ear.

He groaned and I was on my back in a heartbeat, my knees pressed to my shoulders. He gripped the backs of my thighs, and if I thought he'd already fucked me perfectly, it was nothing on what he was doing now.

His hips crashed into me as he set a hard, pounding rhythm, his cock hitting me deeper with every thrust. I cried out, clutching at the bedsheets as the very tip of him touched the very end of me.

"Let me feel those fingernails, potion girl," he grunted. "I want your mark."

My nails pressed half-moon marks into his chest.

"Harder," he growled. "Mark me. Claim me. Make me yours."

A deep growl sounded in his chest as I scraped my nails down the hard muscle, leaving lines of red along his pecs and abdominals.

"Hard enough?" I asked, relishing his grunts and heavy exhales. I squeezed him with my body, and his jaw clenched.

"Fuck yes!" he hissed through his teeth, his pounding becoming more urgent, clearly lost to the fluttering sensation of my body wrapped around his cock.

He let my legs fall away and his hand covered my breast, squeezing roughly as his hips pivoted with hard snaps into me.

"I can feel you, potion girl. I can feel your sweet little cunt ready to come all over me." Charlie lowered his body to mine, his hips never losing their pace. "Will it be wet?" He whispered close to my ear and I groaned. "Will you drown my cock?"

"Oh gods!" My words were little more than a choked sob. I was right on the edge, right where sensation ended and the overwhelming need to dissolve into nothing took over.

"Take me with you." He kissed the side of my throat, never losing his rhythm. "Pull me over with you."

My breath caught in my throat and my body began to shudder. I clutched his hips, his arse, pulling him into me before rising up and gripping his body tightly inside mine. Charlie's growl was deep and low, and it took me a moment to realise the other voice — screaming — was mine.

He didn't slow down, fucking into me so hard the bed thumped into the wall. His back was slick with sweat, his body still working hard and fast. I felt his teeth scrape my shoulder, felt him push deep and hard, felt his fingers dig into my hip, his other hand curling tightly into my hair. His groans became louder, then his body tensed and he pressed his mouth to my heart, a low sound of relief vibrated against my skin as bursts of heat filled me.

With his lips still pressed to my chest, I ran my fingers through his damp hair while he moved slowly in and out of me. His breath was warm, coming out in harsh huffs as he tried to calm himself.

"Fucking hell, potion girl. That was…"

"That was us fucking."

"Yeah, it was," he chuckled into my shoulder then lifted his head. "You okay?"

"I am," I told him and looked down as he lifted off me, both of us watching as he slid out of me.

"You're a mess," he commented then grinned up at me. "Sorry."

I laughed. "Yeah, you look really sorry."

"Did you want me to—"

"No, I like the feel of you inside me."

He lay beside me and pulled me into his side, kissing me sweetly.

"I'm yours, Pansy."

"What?"

"Me. I'm yours. All of me." He rolled to his side and smiled, tucking my hair behind my ear. "I'm not going anywhere. This is where I want to be. Right here with you."

My heart stuttered; he wanted this, he wasn't going anywhere.

"Is that okay?"

I touched the marks I'd left on his chest, traced the fading scratch lines down his stomach. I felt my lips curve into a smile I couldn't stop and I glanced up at him. His eyes looked hopeful, and that hopefulness warmed my heart.

"It's okay, Charlie." I shifted closer, tangling our legs and touching my fingertips to his cheek. "I'm all yours too."

* * *

The smell of coffee drifted up the stairs, gently waking me. I opened my eyes and smiled; Charlie had made himself at home.

Reaching my arms over my head, I arched my spine and stretched, pulling the aches from my body. I felt amazing, so relaxed and completely satisfied. And I didn't want to get out of my bed.

But Charlie was in my kitchen, and that was something I needed to see.

I grabbed his t-shirt and pulled it on. It was huge on me, but I loved the scent of him so close to my skin. Stopping quickly into the bathroom, I pulled the bird's nest that was my hair into a loose ponytail and smiled at my reflection in the mirror. I looked happy, and not just because I was smiling.

Charlie Weasley had shown me more adoration, more affection, and — dare I say — more love in one night than I thought possible. And I knew he was it for me.

My friends would be so smug; I already hated them.

I made my way downstairs and stopped in the kitchen doorway. Charlie was dressed only in his boxers and looked every bit like the god who turned up on my doorstep the previous night.

"Good morning, potion girl."

"Good morning, dragon tamer."

"Dragon tamer?"

I shrugged. "I don't really do terms of endearment."

"Potion girl and dragon tamer… I like it," he laughed. "I hope I didn't wake you."

"You did, but it's fine," I answered and moved into the kitchen. "I need coffee."

"I figured," he replied with a wink.

I pinched his ribs. "Don't be an arse."

He reached up and cupped my face, kissing me. "I like you first thing in the morning."

"Hmm, I think I like you in the morning, especially if you make me coffee."

"If that's all it takes, I'll make you coffee every day."

He kissed me again, deeper, harder, his hands slipping beneath the t-shirt, and I smiled against his mouth when he realised I was completely naked underneath.

"Are you trying to kill me?"

"Of course I am," I told him and squealed when he lifted me onto the counter and stepped between my legs.

"Then maybe I'll make you wait for coffee."

He pulled me to the edge of the counter and I gasped when I felt the growing hardness through his boxers pressing into me.

"I'm not sure I'll ever get enough of you," he murmured into my neck.

His hands slid up my thighs, stopping at my hips, his thumbs sneaking towards my core and stroking my clit. My entire body shuddered and I sighed; his touch was already so familiar.

"So wet already," he groaned. "Pansy, fuck! I need—"

"Pansy, darling? Are you ready?"

My eyes flew open and I whipped my head around to see Narcissa in my living room. She was staring at us both, wide-eyed and startled.

"Did you have plans today?" Charlie asked calmly.

I ignored him and shoved him away, sliding off the counter and turning to face her.

"Narcissa, shit! I'm so sorry. I completely forgot."

"I really need to stop showing up via Floo," she said, her surprise turning to amusement. "First my son, and now you. It's a bit too much to take."

"Sorry," I said again. "If you give me a few minutes I can get ready—"

"No, I think you have other things to occupy you today."

"Oh.. _ah…_. Charlie Weasley, Narcissa Malfoy."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mrs Malfoy," Charlie said. "I'd shake your hand, but we have a bit of a _situation_ going on back here."

I kicked his shin and groaned, covering my face with my hands. "Charlie…"

"It's perfectly fine, Mr Weasley," Narcissa said. "Pansy, darling, I'll be back in the country in two weeks, we can catch up then. And I'll have quite a few questions."

"I'll give her plenty to talk about," Charlie said and I kicked him again.

"Seriously?" I dropped my hands from my face and glared at him.

"What?" Charlie shrugged. "Mrs Malfoy was married and has a son. She's not naïve, potion girl."

"Potion girl?" Narcissa asked.

"He thinks it's cute," I told her and she smiled.

"I think he's right." She headed towards the Floo. "Take care of my girl, Mr Weasley."

"I definitely will." He nodded and pulled me in front of him, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. "She deserves only the best."

The second she disappeared, I spun around. "What the hell was—"

His mouth cut me off, kissing me fiercely, and I felt myself being lifted back onto the counter. His fingers were back between my thighs and I moaned into his mouth.

"That was me telling someone important to you just how important _you_ are to _me_."

His fingers left me and before I could protest, he slid his thick length inside me. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and stared straight at him.

"I'm important?"

"So incredibly important." He began to move.

"This is just the beginning, potion girl. And you're about to find out just how important you truly are."


	6. Chapter 6

**A FEW YEARS LATER…**

* * *

***** CHARLIE *****

* * *

Pansy was exhausted. Her face was puffy, her eyes ringed with dark circles. Sweat had matted her hair to her skin and she looked ready to pass out.

I kissed the top of her head and whispered, "I've never seen anyone so beautiful."

She smiled sleepily at me. "Me or your daughter?"

I touched my hand to the tiny baby on her chest. "Both of you."

Pansy's pregnancy — just two months after our wedding — was a complete shock. We'd not even discussed children, not seriously, but now looking at this little miracle, I knew she was exactly what was meant to be.

I'd fallen in love with Pansy the first time I met her and now it was happening again. Meeting our little girl for the first time, my heart was full to bursting. And our little girl — less than an hour old — was completely content laying on her mother's bare skin. Covered with a blanket and wearing a tiny pink hat, she was the sweetest little doll I'd ever seen.

"You look like you need to close your eyes for a bit." The midwife spoke quietly to Pansy who nodded. "Well then, it's time dad took over. Take your shirt off and sit in the armchair."

I raised an eyebrow at her, "Take off my shirt?"

"I'm not hitting on you, Charlie," she sniggered. "Skin contact with newborns is important."

I nodded, hesitating slightly before dragging my t-shirt off and sitting in the chair. The nurse winked at Pansy, making her laugh, then carefully took the baby from her and brought her to me.

I held my breath. I'd not yet held her; since the birth, she'd been tucked against Pansy's chest.

"Support her head," the nurse instructed. "Then gently lift her to your chest."

I nodded, still holding my breath. The fear of breaking her was insanely real. Dragons were a breeze compared to my tiny daughter.

She let out a whimpering cry and I froze. The nurse chuckled and helped me arrange her on my chest.

"You didn't hurt her, Charlie. Babies cry. Sometimes for absolutely no reason," she assured me and covered us both with a blanket before returning to my wife. "Just a few quick checks, Pansy, then you can rest." She snapped on some gloves and did what I assumed were normal postpartum tests. She declared Pansy to be fine, but my wife was already nodding off, her exhaustion finally winning out.

I smiled at her. She was incredible. After a long labour, she had brought our daughter into this world with such strength and determination, I was even more in awe of her than I usually was.

The baby squirmed on my chest, pulling my attention away from Pansy. She opened her eyes and looked up at me, the most adorable yawn scrunching her face. She was still all too new to this world to really make out her features, but I knew without a doubt she would look like her mother. And the tiny smattering of hair she had was dark — not a red Weasley strand in sight.

"She's the most content baby we've seen in a while," the nurse said. She'd covered Pansy, making sure she was comfortable and warm before coming back to check on me and my daughter. "Looks like she's as exhausted as her mother."

I nodded. "They've both had a big day."

"Indeed they have," she agreed. "We'd normally swaddle her by now, but she's doing well with you both."

"You're sure?" I glanced up at her; I only wanted what was best for my baby girl.

"Yes, she's perfectly fine. She needs some time with her daddy." She squeezed my shoulder. "Did you both decide on a name for her?"

"Melody," I smiled down at the baby. "Melody Raven Weasley."

It was the name Pansy had chosen early in her pregnancy, and admittedly I wasn't sold on it at first, but Pansy wouldn't budge. The name was her only choice and after witnessing my wife over the last twelve and a half hours — and since Melody was her Grandmother's name — who was I to disagree?

"Melody." She nodded slowly and finally smiled. "Just beautiful."

I glanced at Pansy then back at my daughter; the woman of my dreams and my tiny baby girl. I kissed Melody's crown and closed my eyes, breathing in her soft, newborn scent.

"I couldn't ask for anything more beautiful."


End file.
